Guardian of Guardians
by ketren
Summary: Gen. The story of Jamie and Jack twists on for far longer than anyone else expects. A series of snapshots of their lives. - Part 6: Consequences. For a moment, they're the same age. Naturally, this means they get to make mistakes simultaneously. (Warnings: Illegal shenanigans). Also, kids, this is still NOT SLASH.
1. Prelude

**Title: **Guardian of Guardians

**Summary: **Gen. The story of Jamie and Jack twists on for far longer than anyone else expects. A series of meandering one-shots.

**Disclaimer: **Rise of the Guardians belongs to lots of other people, notably Dreamworks and William Joyce, not me!

**A/N: **Stick with me through the brief movie recap: more original content comes next chapter!

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**Prelude**

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Jamie hasn't done himself any favors by believing in mythological beings. At nine, open belief in things like Santa Claus, Bigfoot, or aliens can get your butt kicked, at least by the older kids. Adults have started giving him fond, exasperated looks when he talks about research done in Scotland in search of the Loch Ness Monster, like they're holding themselves back from saying something more. Even Claude and Caleb are beginning to tease him about his belief in aliens and the Easter Bunny. They're too old to believe in any old thing, they say. Too old.

And they're right. Or maybe they aren't—he doesn't know anymore. All he knows is that the Easter Bunny hasn't come at all this year, and that the lack of chocolate and candy put a damper on everyone's spirits. It probably didn't help that Ashton, the seventh-grader who lives down the street, almost died laughing at them as they trudged home from the park with empty wicker baskets.

It's all adding up, but Jamie isn't liking the answer. And so he finds himself huddled in bed just past time for lights out, cradling the old rabbit he's had since he was a baby. He hasn't really played with it in years, and it's usually just something he curls up with in the night as it watches over him with its beady black eyes. But tonight, he needs someone to talk to, and this is the best he's got.

Already, the fleeting and incredible memory of seeing his heroes all at once—Santa, the Tooth Fairy, Sandman, and the Easter Bunny—feels like nothing more than a dream, something imagined out of desperation, and it fades out at the end in a hazy cloud of golden dust. He remembers waking alone the next morning and wondering if he'd only imagined it all. His room seemed messier than usual, but Abby had been frolicking about and chewing his things, and he'd almost chalked it up to the hyperactive greyhound. Except…

He didn't actually mean to speak the words aloud, but somehow, when he places the bunny across from him on the bed, they come tumbling from his mouth."Okay, look. You and I are obviously at what they call a crossroads," he begins lowly, careful that his mother doesn't hear from where she sits working in the next room. "So, here's what's gonna happen. If it wasn't a dream, and if you are real, then you have to prove it. Like, right now." His face grows grim, his mouth clenching around the words, and he stares at the silent rabbit.

"I've believed in you for a long time, okay? Like, my whole life in fact. So you kind of owe me now. You don't have to do much. Just a little sign, so I know." He isn't sure when picked up the toy, but now he leans in closer. "Anything," he adds in a whisper, "_anything at all."_

If his hands had been clasped together, it might have been like he was praying, just like he did sometimes during the rare occasions when they visited Granddad and went to Sunday mass together. But Jamie hasn't grown up believing in anything as strongly as he's believed in this.

There is no telling how long he has been sitting in the dark on that bed, whispering to the rabbit and tense in the silence, his whole body taut in anxiety as he hopes for _something. _A glimmer of light, the warmth of springtime, a flower, or the slightest movement of anything at all.

But it's enough, and a sense of miserable betrayal washes over him. "I knew it," he says. Slowly, as if he can't believe what he's doing, he stretches out his arm and lets the toy tumble down to the wooden floor.

The small, cracking noises that come a few seconds later surprise him at first, and he peers at the window to see what's happened. As if by magic, feathery swirls of frost branch out on the glass of his half-opened window, shimmering white as they grow larger, and there's something in the middle that appears as if drawn by an invisible hand. _An Easter egg._

Jamie gasps and peers down at the bunny on the floor, which hasn't moved from where he left it. Not that he expects it to, exactly, but if the Easter Bunny is really there…Jamie stands on the bed, his mouth widening as the frost crosses over the rail to the glass pane above. There, sure enough, appears a likeness of a rabbit, one smaller than the bunny Jamie had seen last night in his dream—which _wasn't _a dream, after all—but still a rabbit. "He's _real._"

And suddenly it _is _real. The rabbit springs from the glass, trailing little white crystals behind it, and Jamie can't keep the laughter inside as he leaps on his bed to catch the dancing animal. He can almost hear the sound of laughter echo, as though there's someone else there, and then the rabbit disappears in a firework of snow that flutters to the ground, bright white in the darkness of his room.

"_Snow?_" He wonders aloud. The tiniest flake brushes against his nose, and something about the familiar feeling of lightness and freedom and _fun _brings a memory to the forefront of his mind. _But snow isn't for the Easter Bunny, is it?_ No, snow belongs to someone else, someone his mother once mentioned. "Jack Frost?" he whispers aloud, tasting the name. It sounds right. "Jack Frost?" he says, suddenly more certain and anxious to see.

He hears some faint sound, a voice behind him that he can only dimly make out, and turns slowly to see a boy standing there, the moonlight streaming from the window making him look unusually white. No, he realizes, it's the paleness of the boy's skin and the whiteness of his hair, which might have been lighter than the snow itself. Jamie's eyes flicker to take everything in: the boy is older than he is, and he wears only old brown pants and a blue hoodie marked by frost around the hood and shoulders. His feet are bare, and he carries in one hand a crooked staff that reminds Jamie of old stories of shepherds told to him by his Granddad. "_Jack Frost._"

The boy's mouth gapes open wide. "That's _right!_" he cries. "Jack Frost! That's my name!" This boy, Jack Frost, is as excited as Jamie is, and he approaches with a brilliant, tender smile. "You said my name!"

Jamie can hardly move, can hardly think at all. He isn't sure whether the hair on his arms are standing because of the cold or because of his own excitement. Jack's face grows serious as Jamie stares with wide eyes.

"Wait," he says, "can you _hear me_?" Jamie feels his head nodding as though someone else has moved it for him. _"_Can you _see_ me?" Jamie nods again, and the white-haired boy lets out a burst of incredulous, surprised laughter, his eyes suspiciously teary. "He sees me! He—he _sees _me!"

In a movement that Jamie can hardly track with his own eyes, Jack Frost zips up through the air in a perfect backflip, landing on his writing desk.

Jamie is laughing too, now. "You _just _made it snow!" He cries happily, bouncing on his bed in a moment of uncontrolled excitement.

"I know!"

"_In _my room!"

"I know!"

"You're _real?_"

"Yeah, man!" Jack says, jumping off of the desk and gesturing wildly with his hands. "Who do you think brings you all the blizzards and the snow days? And you remember when you went flying on that sled the other day?"

How could Jamie possibly forget the coolest, most terrifying, most incredibly _fun _thing that had happened to him in ages? "That was _you?_" He cries excitedly.

"That was _me!_" Jack crows.

"Cool!" Jamie says, jumping up and down more vigorously. Jack agrees as Jamie remembered why he'd been sitting up in the dark room in the first place. "But—what about the Easter Bunny? And the Tooth fairy? Li—I mean, what about the—?" His word jumble in his enthusiasm, but Jack takes over.

"Real, real, real!" Jack Frost exclaims happily, picking up the fallen stuffed rabbit. "Every one of us is real."

"I _knew it!_" Jamie says with a triumphant, excited bounce.

"Jamie? Who are you talking to?" His mother has that slight warning tone in her voice, and Jamie winces slightly.

"Um…" Jack is grinning at him with an odd, mysterious look, and as he tilts his head toward the door, Jamie knows exactly what he wants. "Jack Frost?"

His mother chuckles. "O-kay…" Jamie can't keep a giggle from escaping, and his fellow conspirator lets out another joyful laugh.

A sudden crack makes them both jump as the windows slam open in a burst of wind, and Jack is suddenly at full attention, smile fading as he dashes to the window. Jamie follows, only to see something huge and dark jet out of the sky and crash onto the street below. In the dim light of the streetlights, it looks like some huge machine. Jack must know what it is, because he grabs his staff, sparing an instant for a quick grin and a "Hold on a sec?" before he flies—really _flies—_out of the window in a rush of cold air.

Jamie hesitates for only a moment before speeding out of his room in his bare feet, slowing only to creep down the hallway past the living room where his mother is working, and is out of the door like a shot, his heart constricted somewhere in his throat at the hope that _it might all be real._

As his feet patter down the driveway, he freezes as he realizes what he's seeing. And then he's running faster than before, to where a huge man with a red coat and a long, silvery beard waits beside what can only be a green fairy with shimmering wings and feathery skin. "Wow, it _is _you! I mean, it _is _you!"

He turns to Jack, exuberant. "I _knew_ it wasn't a dream!"

"Jack," the tall man breathes in wonder. "He sees you."

Jamie looks up at the white-haired spirit, who shoots him an affectionate grin and elbows him playfully. Something like pride washes over Jamie, until he hears Jack's next words. "Wait—where's Bunny?"

Santa exchanges a sad glance with the Tooth Fairy. "Losing Easter took its toll on all of us. Bunny, most of all."

Their gazes are drawn to the sleigh, where a tiny little grey rabbit with odd markings hops down. Jack's hero is less than a foot tall. And fluffy, to boot. "_That's _the Easter Bunny?" Jamie says with a laugh.

"Finally, someone sees me!" came a surprisingly deep voice in a thickly-accented Australian accent. "I mean, where were you about an hour ago, mate?"

"What happened to him?" asks Jamie, softly. "He used to be huge and cool, but now he's…cute," he says, reaching out to scratch the animal's head like he does sometimes with Abby. After a second, the rabbit brushes him off and begins to attack Jack adorably, but Jamie isn't having any of it.

"Actually, he told me you were real," Jamie says, kneeling beside the rabbit he had believed in for so long. "Just when I started to think that maybe you weren't," he adds apologetically, half-afraid the rabbit might be angry. But Jack came to him at a key moment, at a crossroads where Jamie might have turned down another path, and Jamie can't overlook what the spirit has done for him.

"He made you believe…in me?" The rabbit is staring at Jack with wide, uncertain eyes. Jack returns his gaze with a hesitant smile, and the moment is only broken by rising darkness and thunder in the sky.

Jack's glance returns to Jamie's, hardening. "Get Jamie out of here," he says, and Santa nods once, pulling Jamie back.

"Be careful, Jack," the man says, pushing a bewildered Jamie forward as Jack spurts off into the sky. A sudden fear cripples Jamie, and he turns his head back even as he is pushed into a run. Black clouds, lit only by flashes of lightning, loom in the sky behind them, and Jack Frost is racing toward them.

.

What follows is a tale so convoluted, so fantastic, that anyone else could hardly believe it. Except that Jamie does, wholeheartedly: the frantic running, the growing sense of fear, the fun and amazement sledding with all of these incredible, mythical spirits in the darkness. And through all of it, Jack Frost is right in front of him, a hand stretched out defensively to protect Jamie from what he now knows is the Boogeyman, the same one that he tells Sophie not to worry about (and he discovers that if good spirits really do exist, then maybe it only makes sense for bad ones to exist as well).

It's only when Pitch Black—the Boogeyman's real name, Jamie discovers—asks the question that Jamie realizes what he can do, the one power he has that the spirits don't.

"And who will protect you?" the dark man snarls.

Jamie has spent his entire life believing in people and things that are said not to exist, has dedicated all of his time and effort to learning more about them. They have brought him gifts, left him trinkets, given him good dreams. And in this moment, there is only one thing he can do in return.

"I will," he says, more bravely than he feels. He can sense the heavy weight Jack's eyes on him. The others step up and chime in at his sides, and Jamie exchanges a look with Jack. The spirit looks troubled, worried for Jamie no doubt, but not afraid.

Pitch does not seem to like this at all. "Still think there's no such thing as the Boogeyman?" He asks. A dull shiver races down Jamie's spine, but he quashes it. There is nothing to be afraid of, not here. He is surrounded by the spirits who have been with him his whole life, who have protected him whether he knew it or not. Now that it is his turn to return the favor, he can't back down.

A dark black mass of writhing shadow floods toward them like a huge tidal wave of the sort he has only seen on TV. "I do believe in you," he says boldly. "I'm just not afraid of you." In this moment, it's true. He isn't sure what he expects, but he stretches out his hand as the darkness jets forward and feels everyone wince behind him. Insanely, the shadows burst into golden light that twists and glimmers like the thread of a spider's web, transforming into a gold dust—_dream dust, _Jamie realizes.

In the next hazy minutes, the spirits begin to regain their powers, attacking in full force. Jamie is frozen in wonder as minuscule elves, huge yetis, tiny fairies, and even giant Easter eggs attack, punctuated by flashes of boomerangs or bright swords. The monsters turn to gold dust as they brush against him, and in the next instant the fighting is somewhere else, and Jamie and his friends have to hurry to catch up.

The Sandman has made short work of Pitch by the time they arrive, and the other spirits greet him warmly, relief obvious. Tendrils of gold grow everywhere—horses for Cupcake, fairies and candies streaming from window to window, huge dinosaurs for Caleb, and flying dolphins and schools of fish.

Jamie isn't sure if he's remembering to breathe, because it's impossible to take this all in, but the cold thud of a snowball at his back startles him. He turns, finding the grinning figure of Jack Frost there, and he can't help but let out a whoop of laughter as he returns fire. Suddenly, impossibly, he is having a snowball fight alongside the spirits, holding his own against the yetis and small elves (who have the annoying habit of trying to stuff snow up the bottoms of his pants), and the darkness of earlier is only the faintest memory.

Eventually, Jamie realizes that they are mostly alone. There are deep voices echoing farther out in the woods, harsh shouts dying off.

"Guys? Guys, wait—I think there's something else going on!" He hurries off to the in the direction of the sounds, the thin layer of snow chilling his feet. His friends shout something and follow. They stop at the lake, and Jamie hesitates only for a moment—his mother has warned him about the ice down here, after all—before stepping forward to join Jack Frost and the others.

He comes in at the end of Santa's reading, but he hears enough. As though he senses the boy's presence on his ice, Jack turns around to meet Jamie's eyes, questioning. Jamie isn't sure why, but he can feel a huge smile stretching his mouth, and he nods determinedly. Jack seems to find whatever he is looking for, because he turns back to Santa. "I will," he says.

"Then congratulations, Jack Frost, for you are now, and forevermore, a Guardian."

Jamie starts the cheering off, though his noise is nearly drowned by the blare of the elves' trumpets, but he is fiercely happy, and doesn't think he could quiet down even if he had to. The sleigh that comes out of nowhere only makes him more excited, and Sophie grabs his arm as they hurry toward it. The Easter Bunny takes her aside after a moment, though, giving her lots of little walking eggs, and Jamie can tell a goodbye when he sees it. Sandman lets out a few fireworks, which explode into tiny glimmering flakes of sun that fall to the earth like snow, and Jamie turns around to come face to face with Jack once more.

"You're leaving?" he asks, and it comes out more accusing than he means for it to be. "But what if Pitch comes back? What we stop believing?" It is a worrying thought. He had seen all of them before in the night, but in broad daylight, it had been hard even for Jamie convince himself that the Tooth Fairy, Sandman, Santa Claus, and the Easter Bunny had all really been in his room. "If I can't see you…"

"Hey!" Jack-the-Guardian says with a laugh, his face now at eye level and a hand on Jamie's shoulder. "Slow down, slow down! You're telling me you stop believing in the moon when the sun comes up?"

"No," Jamie replies.

"Do you stop believing in the sun when clouds block it out?"

"No," Jamie laughs sheepishly, seeing where Jack is headed.

"We'll always be there, Jamie," Jack murmurs. "And now, we'll always be here," he taps one finger to Jamie's chest, over his heart, "which kinda makes you a Guardian too."

Jamie smiles a huge smile. A Guardian. _Him? _Something in his chest is with happiness—at least, before Jack stands, eyes never leaving Jamie's until he turns toward the sled. Jamie's heart plummets. More than he is worried about forgetting the Guardians, he is worried about losing…well, Jack is a friend now, isn't he?

"Jack," he cries impulsively, his legs moving of their own accord and slipping on the ice. As he slides, he catches Jack in a tight hug. The spirit stiffens for the barest of moments before hugging back. "I'll miss you," Jamie says softly, and Jack's grip tightens.

Without another word, Jack Frost clambers onto the sled. Santa jerks the reins, and the reindeer pull with a speed Jamie could only have imagined before. The Guardians hurtle off into the morning sunlight. Jamie watches them disappear, waving his arm wildly until it hurts and staring until they are out long of sight.

He only looks down when Sophie appears before him. The pile of eggs she holds is teetering, and Jamie instinctively grabs the ones at the top. "Hop, hop!" she says happily.

"I know!" Jamie agrees with a smile. "The Guardians…"_ Which kinda makes you a Guardian too, _Jack had said. A Guardian. Him. It would be impossible to forget something like _that, _wouldn't it? And he has to believe, always, in case he's ever needed again…because as a Guardian of the Guardians, isn't that his duty?

They all fall asleep on the ice after eating some of the Easter eggs, and although the sugar and over-excitement are powerful stimulants, nothing can keep them awake after the exhausting all-night battle. The ice is cold at his back, but as Jamie dozes off with a half-eaten chocolate in his hand, all he can think is that he wouldn't change a thing.

.

Jamie wakes late in the morning with a powerful certainty settled into his bones. In a burst of energy, he springs up in bed, bouncing up and down and peering out the frosty window. The cold air from last night has gone, and in its place is melted snow and, farther down the street, flower buds. The snow is fading for now, but it will return. And Jamie will be ready when it does.

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**A/N: **Hello, all! I'm new to the fandom, having just watched the movie for the first time about two weeks ago, and of course I fell in love! I wanted to explore Jamie and Jack's lives a little bit more…doesn't the movie just leave you wondering what happens next? Anyway, this chapter is a lot of stuff from the movie, I know, but it's important to see things from Jamie's point of view, right? Right? Anyway, updates for this will probably be sporadic, but the next chapter will definitely be original content, and soon, so stick around to see what comes next!

Thanks so much for reading! Please review?

-ket


	2. Return

**Chapter Summary: **There are a few little surprises waiting for Jack in Burgess when he returns the next winter.

**.**

**Return**

**.**

The North Wind begins to pull Jack back up to Burgess in early November of the following year. He wakes from where he has been dozing in an open field, and the dolphins swimming around his thoughts promptly vanish. Jack mentally thanks Sandy for the dream as he stretches his long arms and grabs his staff.

"About time!" he laughs to himself. Faint whispers from somewhere in his core urge him onward, and Jack nods as though Mother Earth is actually beside him. "Okay, here we go!"

With a whoop of joy, he darts into the chilled night air, skating just above the ground like a dragonfly as he lightly freezes the dew on the grass below. Turning southwest by the stars, he rockets higher and higher, skimming the trees below and rustling up a bit more wind and cloud to follow him on his journey.

He has been waiting ages to go back. The long stretch of months between Easter and now have been hard, and even the other Guardians have noticed how much more easily distracted he has become since fall has begun to fade in North America. Bunnymund chewed him out just the other day because he couldn't stop restlessly tapping his staff against the table during one of their meetings.

North pulled him aside later. "_Jack,_" he rumbled, thumping his heavy arm on the frost spirit's shoulder, "You must settle down. They _believe._"

Jack knows this. He does. But now that he is on his way, he finds that an anxious weight has settled somewhere in the pit of his stomach, and he's less certain of what he will find.

The town appears on the horizon, nestled in between patches of forest. Jack circles it a few times, half to make sure that a faint layer of frost covers the plants, and half out of nerves. It is nearly sunrise by the time he arrives in the town itself, and it is every bit as quiet and deserted as he has expected. He jumps to work at once, freezing the puddles, peppering icicles across every raised surface, and sweeping fern frost across the windows.

The town is relatively small, and he finishes in no time and prepares for some fun. "Al_right!_" He whoops happily, drawing moisture from the clouds above him and swirling through the city in bursts of cold wind and wide snowflakes. He is so caught up in this part—his _favorite_ part—that he almost misses the shouting.

"Jack Frost! _Jack Frost!_" He skitters to a stop in midair, a grin creeping across his face until he looks down. Two young dark-haired girls, obviously twins, are leaning out of the window of a second story apartment. They can only be six or seven, and Jack feels that the wide eyes and open mouths on their faces must be echoed on his own. He drifts back.

"Who…? Can you…you can see me?" He asks, stumbling over his words.

"You're _Jack Frost! _Just like Jamie said!" exclaims one of the girls.

"Wh—yeah! Yeah, I am! Wait. Jamie?"

"I told you he was telling the truth!" says one to the other, dimples showing as she grins eagerly. "He's real!" They bounce up and down excitedly, heads still poking out into the cold air.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Jack says suddenly, still catching up. "Jamie told you about me?"

The girls nod vigorously in unison. "He goes to our school," one says in a reverent whisper. "And before summer, he and all of his friends were telling about how you and Santa and the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy and Sandman beat…um…" Her brow furrows in thought

"It was a monster, right?" interjects the other girl.

"Yeah," Jack says faintly, still half-convinced that _he _is imagining things. "A really bad one."

"Wow…" the girls murmur. They are still staring with wide eyes, and in the early morning light, Jack can see that their fingers grip the windowsill so hard that they are nearly white. Maybe it would be a good idea to stop them from leaning out so far…

"Hey, whaddya say we go have some fun?"

"_Yeah_!"

"No, Cat, we have school!"

Jack grins suddenly. "No, you don't," he laughs. "I get the feeling today's gonna be a snow day."

.

Somehow, on the way to Jamie's house, Jack makes a lot of new acquaintances. The twins, Cat and Lena, newly wrapped in thick winter coats, dance in the snow Jack makes and bellow high-pitched cries of "_It's Jack Frost, Jack Frost, Jack Frost!_" as they head for the park. Heads peer through doors and windows as they pass, and when Jack waves, _they wave back. _

A freckled boy rushes to catch up, still in his pajamas with only a pair of rain boots and a scarf to suggest that he paused at all in his rush out of the house. Another pair of siblings meet them at the next traffic light, one bubbly and excited and rattling of long lists of questions that she doesn't give Jack time to answer and the other barely old enough to really speak (but certainly old enough to know who Jack is and to watch him with raised eyebrows). The next little redheaded girl nearly trips over herself in her hurry down the front steps of her house, and Jack catches her before she hits the ground. "Jack Frost," she whispers.

"You bet," he laughs, and he grabs both of her hands and pulls her forward with him, freezing the ground below her feet and dragging her as though she is ice skating. She giggles in delight, and then Jack is surrounded by ten or more excited children who want a turn at the same thing.

"Nope, we'll have to get where we're going first. Come on!" he says, flying off with a grin as they run to catch up through the swirling snow.

Monty, Cupcake, and Pippa are next, all of them shouting his name exuberantly as they run. Jack lets out a whoop and stretches his hand out for high fives as he rushes past. "Come on, guys, let's go!" With the next group of kids come Caleb and Claude, whose grins nearly split their faces in half.

Jamie's house appears on the left, and Jack rockets forward almost unconsciously. He stops short at the second-story window to Jamie's bedroom and cups his hands around his face to peer through the glass panes.

Jamie is asleep on the bed, curled up under the blankets with his legs hanging over one side of the bed. Jack presses his palms to the glass, letting the frost crackle over its surface into swirling patterns. Even through the now-clouded surface, he can see Jamie sit up at the sound. Their eyes meet, and Jack knows that his own grin must be enormous. Jamie's face slackens comically, and he races to the window in a burst of speed that makes Jack think of Bunny's quick feet. He barely has time to draw back before the window flies open.

"Jack!" Jamie cries. "I _knew _you'd come!"

"Of course I came!" Jack says, slipping into the room. "Who else would bring you an awesome snow day like this one?" Jamie's arms wrap around his waist instantly. Jack is still not as comfortable with touch as he could have been—three hundred years alone will do that to a spirit—but this time, he hugs back instinctively.

"I missed you," Jamie says.

"I missed _you,_" Jack replies. "But Jamie," he adds seriously, "we have to get outside, right now."

"Why?" Jamie asks, looking up.

"Because we have a lot of fun to catch up on. Hurry up!" Jack says with a grin.

.

By the time Jamie dresses himself and Sophie and grabs his sled, there are nearly twenty children waiting for them outside. Jack sends flurries of snow down to dance in their hair, and he gives them all a quick, slippery ride down the street to the park. The snow has fallen quickly enough that it has covered the cars and road, and the trip is a loud one filled with excited cries and screams of delight.

The ensuing snowball fight will probably be talked about for years to come. Teams are created, snow fortifications are built and maintained, and equal doses of mischief and fun are had by all. Jack plays for no team, but he helps and hinders both equally, tapping branches to let gathered snow fall on unsuspecting kids and magically creating piles of extra snowballs when they're most needed.

Jack has a particularly mischievous eye set on Jamie, but after he stuffs snow down the back of the kid's coat for the fourth time, Jamie has had enough. "Jack, I'm gonna kill you!" he yelps, dancing about and shaking the bottom of the coat to let out the freezing snow. Jack is too busy laughing hysterically to hear, so Jamie throws a snowball at the Guardian.

"Get Jack!" he cries with a grin. His friends look at each other with rare, simultaneous smirks and begin pelting the Guardian with snow.

"Hey!" Jack laughs, covering his face with his arms. "You're asking for it!" The attack doesn't stop until Jack moves his staff. Snowballs form and hover in the air, each racing toward the kids. Jamie dodges one, but it turns in midair and rushes back at him.

"What—" he barely has time to cry out before the snowball hits him directly in the face. He flies backwards into the soft snow, and Jack couldn't have orchestrated a more graceless, comical fall if he tried. Jamie blinks the flakes from his eyes and is met by Jack's laughing face.

"No fair!" Jamie says, but his own smile takes any bite out of the words.

"That's what you get for messing with Jack Frost," Jack says affectionately before floating down to give Jamie a hand up.

.

Jack could get used to this. The other Guardians make time for him often, but they don't have the same spirit for fun and games as he does. It's only with kids that Jack can take part in games as carefree or long-lasting as this, and never before with kids who actively include him in the games, who _believe._

They spend the rest of the morning sledding. Some of the kids run back to their houses to return with whatever they can find, from real sleds to garbage can lids, and although Jack has let it stop snowing, he still makes sure that the snow is fresh for each new try. He even manages to coax some of the more nervous kids into trying it for the first time with him, and their excitement is a reward of its own.

Kids drift in and out of the group, some running home for lunch or a late breakfast and returning as quickly as they can, and as the news of Jack's arrival spreads, he finds that the group grows larger than he could have dreamed possible a few hours ago. At some point, he looks up to find around forty of them laughing in the snow.

Later, he leads them down to the lake by request and with no small amount of trepidation. Jamie's voice at his side makes him jump. "You okay?" The boy still has snow in his hair from making snow angels (though Jamie declared his a snow yeti), and Jack chuckles as he ruffles it out.

"Fine," he says. "But let me take a look at the lake first, okay?"

Jamie stops the other kids from moving any closer as Jack inspects the ice. He thickens it as much as he can, building up centimeter after centimeter of ice and walking up and down for a few moments to feel its strength beneath his feet. Out of the corner of his eye, Jack catches a glimpse of Sophie hopping excitedly next to Jamie, who waves and makes an indulgent face at his sister. Jack grins, skates around for one more check, the frost dancing as his bare feet make contact with the ice, and calls, "Ready! Let's go!"

As it turns out, Sophie is still a bit too young to get the hang of skating, but she insists on being carried piggyback for the day, and Jack can't find it in him to mind at all. A fair amount of time is spent dragging laughing kids around by his staff, and they hold onto each other like a conga line as he pulls them around the frozen lake. Once the children tire, he teaches Jamie and some of the others how to spin on their skates, and never gets tired of laughing when they fall.

It is nearly dark by the time they stop, though the days darken early this time of year. Kids wander home reluctantly, called back by parents or attracted by the promise of a warm fire after a long, cold day. They say goodbye as they go, and Jack has never had so many hugs in his life.

The little redheaded girl kisses him on the cheek before she scurries off into her mother's waiting arms.

Jamie stays, and Sophie is no longer a weight on Jack's back but a sleeping bundle in his arms. "Back home?" Jack asks.

"Home," Jamie agrees, a warm, tired look plastered on his face.

"Well, then," Jack says, smiling as Jamie begins to trudge forward, "let's get you two warmed up."

.

Jamie's mother comes in to check on him that night after Jack puts Sophie in her bed. Jack is careful to stay near the window and out of her way. Adults never believe, and he avoids the sensation, cold even by _his_ standards, of being passed through by a living human being. The dark-haired woman leans down affectionately as she fusses over Jamie, tucking him into the warm blankets and telling him to get enough sleep to go to school tomorrow after such a long day. Jamie absently agrees to all of her questions, but he can't keep his eyes off Jack, who grins and draws snowflakes in the frost that covers the glass.

When she turns the lights out on her way out of the room, Jack settles at the foot of Jamie's bed. "Is there really going to be school tomorrow?" Jamie asks at once, sitting up. They had both watched people shoveling and sprinkling salt across the snow on the walk back to the house.

"Looks like," Jack says with a wry shrug.

"Can't you make more snow?"

"It doesn't always work like that," he says with a sad laugh. "It's too early for a lot of snow to gather here. It'll mess things up." He doesn't go into too much detail, but he is well aware of the consequences of a winter that comes faster than autumn can leave, and the whispers of Mother Nature are already pulling him west toward Michigan. He should probably be there already.

"Are you _leaving?_" Jamie asks, troubled.

"It's not like last time," Jack says quickly. "It's winter here now. I'll be back as often as I can. With the weather…maybe even next week."

Jamie looks relieved, an excited smile spreading over his face. "Okay. Today was _awesome,_" he adds happily. "We have to do it again."

"You bet!" Jack agrees.

"Especially the snow fight part! That was so cool!"

"Jamie," Jack remembers abruptly, "did you really tell all those kids about us?" _About me? _he wants to add.

Jamie is suddenly bashful. "Well, yeah," he says, fiddling with his stuffed bunny. "I mean, you gotta have people who believe in you, right? And, well…they didn't believe _me _right away, 'cause I always talked about crazy stuff like that. But since all of us were telling the same story, they realized it was all true. And…not _everybody _believes it, but there's a lot of us who've been watching out the windows for when you came back."

The frost spirit is more touched than he can say. This lonely Pennsylvania town now holds almost all of the believers he has in the world, and it's more than enough. He wraps Jamie in a crushing hug, and the boy returns it wholeheartedly after a startled laugh.

"Thanks, Jamie," Jack says warmly. "Anyway," he adds, "I gotta leave soon, but how 'bout a story before bed?"

Jamie curls up in his blankets as Jack spins tale after tale for him—some about the awesome pranks that he's pulled recently, or the time Bunny accidentally dyed half the fur on his leg pink, or when Tooth nearly fainted in excitement after finding the old baby tooth of some famous dentist—and Jamie drifts off to sleep with a smile on his face. Jack watches the slow rise and fall of the boy's chest for a few minutes, longer than he should, given that it's far past time for Lansing to be covered in a light snow, and then he drifts slowly from the bed and through the window, shutting it firmly behind him so that the cold doesn't disturb Jamie in his sleep.

.

North has insisted that Jack come to visit at least once a week, and for this express purpose, the Guardian of Wonder has even made up a small room for him, light blue with silvery trimmings and soft bedding. Jack always follows this rule now, ever since he skipped a week and the other Guardians went frantic searching the globe for him. Today, though, he is too preoccupied with his lingering snowstorm in Montreal to stay for long, and North is too busy preparing for Christmas to insist on it.

But they always talk, at least, because North keeps a watchful eye on Jack. A parental one, if Jack lets himself admit that.

"Your winter is coming along well, Jack?" North asks, slowly reading paper that one of the yetis hold out to him. He nods in approval.

"Yeah," Jack says distractedly. "And your Christmas?"

"Is coming," North says, before bellowing, "Not plastic boats, _model_ boats! For painting!" He turns back to Jack, nursing his cup of hot chocolate, which Jack knows has a heavy dose of vodka inside. The alcohol does nothing to dampen North's sharp eye, and he gazes carefully at Jack, probably noting the way the frost spirit leans more on his staff than usual. "You are tired?"

Jack doesn't know why, but he has to shake off a sudden feeling of shyness that washes over him. "I spent today in Burgess," he says.

North's face brightens in understanding. "Burgess! Jamie is good?"

"Yeah, he's great," Jack says, unable to prevent a smile from slipping onto his face. "And North," he adds suddenly, "Jamie told people about us, and about _me! _You'll never believe it, but there were _kids _waiting for me when I got there. Lots of them!"

North looks up, a warm look on his face. He knows how much this means to Jack, and he wraps the frost spirit in a wordless hug. Jack has been getting way more hugs than he is used to lately, and North's have always been particularly overbearing, but he can't help but hug back in kind.

"Is good for you," North notes, pulling away. "Belief spreads, you know."

Jack isn't willing to get his hopes up too high, but even as he waves goodbye to North and makes for Canada, a part of him is sure that this is just the beginning.

**.**

**.**

**.**

**A/N: **Wow, this one was fun to write. I get the feeling that Jack would have quickly built up a reputation in Burgess, especially since he's got a group of kids who have been on a wild adventure with him!

Thanks for the reviews, and don't forget to leave a note if you'd like. Next chapter should be up next weekend, if I can get my paper written and out of the way this week. See you then!

~ket


	3. Spook

**Chapter Summary: **Jamie says he isn't afraid of monsters, but he might be. Just a little.

**.**

**Spooks**

**.**

Jamie says he's not afraid of monsters, but he might be. Just a little. And there might be something hiding in his room.

He is lying wide awake in bed, wrapped in all of his blankets. It's freezing outside, but the blankets are more to make him feel protected than to keep him warm. His mother has gone to sleep; he can't hear the rattle of the computer keyboard in the living room across the hall. The house is silent.

It's been a few nights since he's had a full night's sleep, and the exhaustion weighs down his bones, but his body is still tense as though waiting for a blow to fall. He's not entirely sure why this vague feeling of unease has lingered so long—he hasn't allowed Monty to talk him into watching a horror film in ages—but the cold fingers of fear won't let him go. It is spurred on by the hazy memory or half-dream of a dark cloud that writhes and advances with hundreds of glowing red eyes.

When the blow falls, it comes not from under the bed but from the window. There is a faint click of the latch opening, and Jamie jumps up in fright only to see a familiar grinning face. For a moment under the bright moonlight, Jack's pale skin and hair make him look like a skeleton, but there is no one Jamie would rather see right now.

"Jack," he whispers in relief.

"Hey, there, kid!" Jack says, matching the quiet of Jamie's voice as he steps in and shuts the window behind him to keep out the snow. By now, the spirit knows which floorboards creak as well as Jamie himself does, so he makes it to Jamie's bedside in silence. "Came by to add another layer of snow and saw your eyes open. What are you doing up?"

"Couldn't sleep," Jamie murmurs.

"Ah," Jack says sagely. "Bad dreams?"

"Maybe if I could get to sleep at all," Jamie grumbles. Jack's eyebrows rise, and Jamie continues abashedly. "I'm just kinda scared, I guess."

"Afraid of what?" Jack pries.

Jamie weighs his options for a moment and decides to explain further. "I'm not really sure," he says sheepishly. "Maybe just the dark. Like, I keep imagining this big black cloud with lots of red eyes. I can't get it out of my head." Normally, he wouldn't have said this much to someone asking, but Jack isn't just anyone. Besides, Jamie has the feeling that the Guardian understands things like this better than anyone else.

The spirit doesn't surprise him. Jack stiffens, staring at Jamie intensely. "Have you seen it?"

Jamie is wary. "No, 'course not," he says slowly. "It's just…there was a really bad snowstorm a few days ago and when I looked up at the clouds, they were really dark, you know? And I got the feeling I saw something like it once before. I don't know why I got so scared, but…"

Jack has relaxed. "A black cloud," he murmurs quietly, pausing. "Well, that doesn't sound like fun. No wonder you can't sleep."

He doesn't elaborate, and only taps at his staff thoughtfully as he stares down at Jamie. After a few moments of silence, Jamie speaks up again. "What should I do?"

Jack blinks. "Well—you should be careful, and if you see anything like…well, if you see anything weird, you should tell me. Right away."

It is Jamie's turn to raise his eyebrows.

"But, uh, in the meantime…why don't I help out? Budge over."

Jamie doesn't realize what Jack means to do at first, but he scoots back toward the edge of the bed to make room. Jack rests his staff against the nightstand and slides into bed beside Jamie, pushing the blankets toward his smaller friend and resting on top of the bare mattress.

"I'll stay until you fall asleep," Jack explains.

"Really?"

"Really."

"Thanks, Jack."

Jack smiles. "It's nothing. Anyone would do it."

"Not Mom," Jamie argues with a scowl. "She barely even listened. She said…" well, that part was embarrassing, but he'd already begun. "She said I was too old to believe in monsters anymore."

"You're never too old to believe in something," Jack says quietly. "And besides, it's okay to be scared."

Jamie debates his next words. Jack has been good about this so far, and he thinks he can trust the Guardian with more. "Sometimes, I think there's someone hiding in the dark." Jamie confesses in a small whisper.

Jack frowns again, pinning Jamie with the same intense stare. "Okay."

"Okay?"

The frost spirit nods. "Okay, I'm going to stay here until you go to sleep. And then I'm going to stick around so you don't have to worry."

"Thanks, Jack," Jamie says, stretching under his blankets. Jack is quiet, with the same, fierce look in his eyes, and Jamie wants to wipe it off his face. "Tell me another story?"

Jack blinks, smiles, and obeys.

Jamie can't remember any of it afterwards. He hasn't felt so safe in days, or, strangely, as warm. His eyes pull themselves closed of their own accord, and he's fairly sure that he's out cold before Jack has even finished three sentences.

.

Sometime later in the night, Jamie groggily wakes up as the bed shifts. He doesn't move, though, and with half-open eyes, he watches Jack silently straighten and grab his staff. The Guardian drops to the floor slowly, and Jamie realizes that Jack must think he is still sleeping.

Jamie watches as the white-haired boy pulls the edges of the blankets up and peers beneath his bed. In the dark room, Jamie can only make out the slight frown on Jack's face before he stands again. Mindful of the creaky floorboards, Jack tiptoes quietly around Jamie's room, checking every dark place, including the closet, where he gently pulls some of Jamie's clothes and toys aside to check for something.

The monster might be real then, Jamie thinks, the lightest tendrils of fear creeping into his chest. They had fought one together once, hadn't they, he and Jack and the others? For some reason, the memory of the monster is hazy, but Jamie imagines that he can make out dark horses of twisting smoke and a dark man to go with them. The details flicker away, and he wonders why he has such a hard time remembering during the day.

And then Jack closes the closet door, looking satisfied. Jamie closes his eyes again, but a moment later, he hears a rustling sound and feels the Guardian settle at the foot of his bed.

"Go to sleep, Jamie," Jack orders. "I'm not leaving." Jamie opens his eyes to see Jack smiling at him. "Seriously, go to sleep," the frost spirit says.

Jamie does.

.

He's beginning to get used to waking up like this, opening his eyes to an empty room and frost at the window. This time, though, as Jamie yawns and stretches his hands above his head, he notices something different. Shapes on the glass. He slides from bed, ignoring the cold against his bare feet, and steps toward the window to see a scrawled message written in the frost.

_No monsters. I promise. _

_-Jack_

There _are _such things as monsters, after all, then. And Jack knows of them. Somehow, this only makes Jamie feel better. Because if there really are monsters, then everything is alright as long as Jack takes care of them.

The memories of darkness don't return.

.

.

.

**A/N: **Pitch seems to kinda fade from memory at the end of the movie, and since he ends up getting walked through, it follows that Jamie and the others might not even remember very much of what actually happens during the fight. A disappearance like that might contribute to those vague feelings of unease, of something without a name that stalks in the middle of the night. Whether or not you think that Pitch is actually out there, stalking Jamie, is up to you to decide.

I hope you enjoyed it! This was a tough chapter to write for some reason, and I've got half a mind to go back and tweak it a bit at some point. But for the moment, onward! Thanks for reading, and be sure to leave a review!

~ket


	4. Counsel

**Chapter Summary:** After a rough time at the North Pole, Jack comes to Burgess to brood. Luckily for him, Jamie knows a thing or two about fighting with family.

**.**

**Counsel**

**.**

Jack is very careful not to freeze anything this time. Not that it's very difficult. The warm April sun leeches away any frost he leaves on the plants by accident, and the most that Burgess feels of Jack's presence is the slightest chill in the air.

He leans against the ornamental redbud tree, which is beginning to bloom into hundreds of tiny pink flowers, and calls up a few breaths of wind to rustle the branches, half out of boredom and half to keep cool. It is almost too late in the year for him to be here, but Jack needs a break from other Guardians for a while, and anyway, he likes to linger in the area as long as possible.

He's spent the better part of the day here, and when the bell finally rings, Jack is up like a rocket, flying in a whirl of cool air to land on the stone wall that surrounds Jamie's school. "If it weren't so close to Easter, I'd've made it a snow day or two just to get out of all this waiting_,_"he grumbles to himself. He makes sure that he's positioned just behind the redbud to keep from prying eyes. He studies the faces of the relieved students that spring from the school doors in hordes until his eyes settle on Jamie.

The eleven-year-old is still small for his age, and in the cluster he forms with Claude, Monty, and a few of the other sixth-grade students, he is the shortest.

Jack hides as they come by. Burgess is the only place where his celebrity runs rampant through the town, and on any other day, he might have let out a few flakes of snow and called them all over for a bit of fun, but he's not in the mood to see everyone. Just Jamie. Besides, he's already gotten on Bunny's bad side enough this spring, and there's no reason to push his luck with snowfall so close to Easter.

Jamie says goodbye to his friends by the fire station and turns east toward home. Jack drifts behind him until he is certain there are no other kids around, and then he flies down to set his feet on the pavement at Jamie's back.

"Hey," he whispers in Jamie's ear, laughing as Jamie jumps and spins around in surprise.

"Jack!" he cries, a wise smile sweeping over his face. "I thought you were gone for spring already!"

"Nah," Jack says, dragging the bottom of his staff through a puddle as he walks past. Jamie follows his lead as they wander in the direction of his home. "Just came back for one last bit of fun."

Jamie is frowning ever so slightly now. "But it hasn't been cold at all recently. I haven't seen any frost. It's even warm out today."

"Yeah, well," Jack begins, shifting uncomfortably. "I just wanted to come say 'hi.'"

"Last time, you came to say 'hi' in the middle of summer, and you almost passed out in midair," Jamie says, bursting into laughter. "Doesn't the heat make you tired?"

"Ye—Hey!" Jack cries, clutching his heart as though wounded. "You said you'd never bring that up again!"

"That was ages ago," Jamie says dismissively, and to an eleven-year-old, that probably meant that the promise was as good as dissolved.

"Well, anyway, I thought I'd visit one more time before I left for winter in the Southern Hemisphere. I won't be back for a while this year, maybe November or so."

"November? But that's so late…" Jamie's brow furrows. "Doesn't it usually cool down in September?"

"Yeah, well, the balance worked out like that this year. The Northern Hemisphere has had long winters for the last couple years—I had to work out way more avalanches in China and Scandinavia, and the blizzards in Siberia even started stretching into Southern Russia, and the snowfall in North America went as far down as New Orleans, and the ice in the Arctic Sea was getting a few feet thicker than normal…" he trails off, realizing that he's babbling.

"Oh," Jamie says simply, though he looks like he's trying to hide the gloom in his expression.

"Don't sweat it, kiddo," Jack remarks. "I'll be back before you know it. In the meantime, let's have some fun."

"Actually," Jamie says hesitantly, "Mom made me promise to take Sophie out kite-flying, 'cause she's been begging. Do you want to do that?"

"Kite-flying sounds great," Jack agrees firmly.

.

There are more flowers in the park than Jack can remember seeing in one place in a long time. It's been ages since he has hung around anywhere so late in the spring, and he's almost forgotten how beautiful it can be. Unfortunately, his mind leaps back to Bunny as soon as he starts thinking about springtime, so he grimaces, quashes the thought, and gently calls up his wind instead.

Sophie has brought a colorful kite, shaped like a bird, and by the time they have reached the treeless, open field, she is bursting with eagerness at the feel of the wind brushing through her hair.

"Help me get the kite up!" she demands, grinning toothily. Jamie drops the soccer ball he's been carrying and allows her to drag him to the top of the hill, and they both run down in an attempt to get the kite off the ground.

If he wanted to, Jack could easily harness the wind to pull the kite high into the air, but he knows that half—well, really _most_—of the fun of kite-flying is the challenge of getting it started. So instead, he flits around in the air, encouraging Jamie and Sophie from above and keeping the kite from spiraling to the ground as often as he can.

Jamie is reluctant at first, but he quickly becomes engaged in tugging the string this way and that as they run, or giving advice to his sister, and after about ten minutes of effort, they whoop in excitement as the kite hangs in the air instead of crashing back to earth. Jamie helps Sophie to tug it even higher, until it has risen high enough to stay on its own.

"This is the boring part," Jamie says offhandedly. Sophie doesn't seem to think so, as the grin has never left her face, and she continues to tug the kite this way and that to watch it dance in the cloudless sky. "Careful not to make it crash again," Jamie cautions her, but Jack knows that the strength of the wind at that altitude will make it difficult for her to reel it back in anyway.

At any rate, Sophie largely ignores her brother's words, and she sprints back and forth in the field with her eyes on the kite. After a moment spent watching her, Jamie turns to Jack.

"Wanna play?" he asks, his grin nearly identical to Sophie's.

Jack returns it in diminished form, and he drifts down until his feet come to rest on the grass. "Maybe in a few minutes?" he asks sheepishly, sitting down. "I guess flying in the heat really does wear me out a little."

Jamie nods as Jack settles Indian-style on the ground. "Okay," he says easily. "Then you can watch this!"

The kid tosses the ball into the air, juggling it by hitting it alternately with one knee and then the other to keep it up. He's been practicing the move for a few months now, and while he's still a bit too shaky at it to call it _perfect, _he's definitely improved since the last time Jack's seen.

"You've been busy! You look like you could be a pro soon."

Jamie beams, distracted enough to miss the ball. "Thanks! You know, Claude was showing me some really cool videos of trick shots the other day—you should see them! I think they'd be really hard to do, but I bet with your wind…" he begins to chatter about how seriously unfair it is that Jack can probably pull off some of the cooler moves without practice, the usefulness of trick shots in an actual game, and how he nearly sprained his wrist trying to do something called a bicycle kick. Jack nods, listening with half an ear, but his mind begins to wander in the oppressive heat.

He doesn't even notice that Jamie has stopped talking until the boy drops the soccer ball beside him with a thud and sits on it, facing the frost spirit expectantly.

"What? Professional injuries. I was listening."

Jamie looks amused. "I just asked what you were thinking about."

"Oh. Right."

"How come you're _really_ here, Jack?" Jamie asks.

"What, I can't just come for a visit?"

The amused look hasn't slipped off of Jamie's face. "Not this time of year, no. You don't like the heat. You didn't come to play with everyone else—Monty and Caleb and Cupcake and everyone. And you've got this look on your face."

"I don't have a _look._"

Jamie raises his eyebrows. "Yeah, you do. _That _look."

Jack groans, flopping back to lie on the grass. "When did you get so observant?"

"It's nothing new. I'm the smarter one, Jack," Jamie replies flippantly.

"And so mouthy," Jack grumbles to himself, though he rolls his eyes good-naturedly at Jamie's smug smile.

"You need to talk. So?"

Jack deflates, entwining his fingers under his head like a pillow. "So, nothing. Just stupid stuff."

Jamie waits patiently. When nothing was forthcoming, he prodded. "Like…?"

"Okay, okay. It's just that me and Bunny aren't getting along. Well, kind of me and all the Guardians. But mostly me and Bunny."

Jamie looks taken aback. "What do you mean? You always sound like things are going great."

"It is—they are. Usually."

"Then what happened? I mean, last time you were here, you said you'd even be helping Bunny out with the Easter eggs again."

Jack frowns. "I...don't know if I'll be helping Bunny this year."

"What happened?" Jamie repeats.

"Well…I guess I've been missing meetings, you know? Um, because North decided we have to meet about twice a month just to make sure we're all on the same page. We think Pitch is probably gone for now, but there are always troublemakers trying to start things up again. That creepy Sack Man is trying to step up to the plate now, and even worse, there've been a bunch of squabbles from the league of beldames over in Europe, so…"

He hesitates, noticing the blank look Jamie is giving him. Jack is pretty sure that all memories of Pitch have pretty much faded from Jamie's mind, so he probably isn't making much sense.

"Anyway," Jack adds hastily, "that's not really important. So, we have these…bimonthly meetings, and sometimes North or Tooth have us over for dinner at their places. But the thing is, I've missed a bunch of them. Not on purpose! It's just, something always comes up. Like last time—snowstorms around Southern Chile. I had to cover all of Punta Arenas and over to the Falkland Islands in one night. So I couldn't make the meeting, right? And I guess they got upset."

"What happens when they get upset?" Jamie asks warily.

"Mostly North reminds me how important the meetings are, and Tooth says she misses me because we don't always see each other all the time, and Sandy looks disappointed. And Bunny yells," he winces. The other Guardians he can deal with, but he can't take the shouting matches anymore.

"That doesn't sound fair!" Jamie objects. "Don't you _have to _make winter come?"

"Well, yeah."

Jamie taps absently at his knees. Over his shoulder, Sophie is humming as she dances and twirls the kite string. "But Jack…why don't you just wait 'till after the meeting's over to make it snow?"

"I can't always do that," Jack explains slowly. "Mother Nature is the one who tells me what to do and when to do it."

Jamie's eyes are impossibly wide. "There's a _real _Mother Nature?"

"Uh-huh," Jack says, smiling in spite of his foul mood. "She's really pretty, too," he adds warmly, "but I've only actually ever seen her twice. She mostly keeps to her grove, and she likes her privacy. Whenever it's time for me to do something or go somewhere new, she whispers to my wind and it carries the message to me so I feel it."

"_Wow._"

"Yeah," Jack agrees. He's never quite gotten over his idolatry of Mother Nature either…

"Anyway."

"_Any_way. Usually, she tells me what to do and when. And no one wants the seasons to be out of whack."

"Then why do the other Guardians get so upset?"

Jack frowns. "I guess because they don't really get it. Their jobs come with a regular schedule: Tooth and Sandy follow the night wherever it goes, and North and Bunny have their special days once a year. But my job's…irregular. I go wherever the wind takes me, mostly."

"Then that's no reason for them to worry if you miss a couple of meetings!" Jamie argues indignantly.

Jack winces again. "Well, I've been missing…a lot of the meetings. Maybe half," he admits. "Maybe more?"

"That's…a lot."

"Yeah, I guess. And I guess…technically, I have some leeway with the orders, and sometimes I could wait a while to cause a blizzard or go start an avalanche early, but…I don't know." Jack sighs.

His friend looks puzzled. "Then why don't you do that instead?"

"I don't know," Jack repeats. "Well…I guess it's just that they've been making such a big deal of it lately, needing to know where I am all the time. But it's not like I really need them breathing down my neck every five minutes to remind me. And I _know _they really set up the meetings because I'm around now, but there's no reason they need to be…_babying_ me all the time." Jack sits up irritably, running a hand through his hair. He has the sudden urge to burn off some excess energy, and if the sun wasn't so _bright, _he might have begun pacing. "I spent hundreds of years on my own, so it's not like I'm used to _telling _someone where I am all the time or what I'm doing. That's just…weird. And annoying."

Jamie is nodding sagely. "Did you tell them that?"

Jack snorts, fidgeting uncomfortably. "Yeah, right. North and Tooth and Sandy are always too… nice about it, and then they're disappointed whenever I don't show up or tell them _exactly _where I am. And I know they're worried. But how am I supposed to tell them to back off? Besides, Bunny bites my head off whenever I bring it up lately—says _I'm _being rude. And _ungrateful_." Jack doesn't mean for that last word to come out through clenched teeth, but it still hurts. "I'm _not _ungrateful. The Guardians are my friends, and I'd do anything for them, but I just…need some space," he admits finally. "Maybe that's stupid."

After a few moments of pensive staring, Jamie pipes up. "You sound like a family."

"What?" Jack is thrown off by the apparently random statement.

"Yeah," Jamie affirms, "I never really noticed it before, or thought about it. But you're basically stepping on each other's toes."

"Stepping on toes?" Jack asks skeptically.

"Sure. That's what Mom calls it, anyway. She yelled at me something awful last week when I almost sprained my wrist trying that bicycle kick. She said there was no way I was thinking straight if I was pulling stunts like that in the backyard. And I yelled back at her that I just want to be my best for the soccer team this year because I can maybe get a scholarship to Woodward Private for high school 'cause they have the best soccer team in the state. We didn't really talk for a while after that, but when she calmed down, she said that we're family, and so maybe we were just gonna have to agree to step on each other's toes sometimes."

"So…"

"So," Jamie says patiently, "you're all stepping on each other's toes. But _you _haven't told them why yet. If they don't know they're bothering you, they'll just keep doing it."

"Yeah, I guess," Jack says tiredly. "I _don't _want to seem ungrateful, though. It's kind of nice to have people worry about you. But I just don't want one of them chasing me down every five minutes."

"Well, if you talk about it, I bet you can figure something out together." Jamie sounds confident. Jack doesn't know when he started taking advice from this kid, but Jamie's ideas rarely lead him astray. Still, there's an uncomfortable flicker in his stomach when he remembers the hurt, angry look on Bunny's face from earlier. The pair of them has been butting heads over lots of things lately, and they both have the bad habit of saying things they didn't really mean when they fight. He doesn't much like the idea of sitting the overgrown kangaroo down for a chat, but maybe it's getting to be that time.

"I think it's finished," Sophie murmurs out of the blue. Jack's wind has died down enough for the kite to drift downwards all on its own, and her tugs on the string do nothing but make it flutter lazily in the air.

"Yeah," Jack agrees, yawning. "It's finished."

"C'mon, Jack," Jamie says, pulling his friend to his feet. "You can crash on my bed a while."

.

Jack wakes to a slight breeze. Stretching slowly, he half-wonders if North has left the window open for him again, but it's not quite cool enough for that. He opens his eyes and blinks owlishly at the electric fan on the bedside table.

"Mom helped me get it down from the attic," Jamie explains. He is curled up by the window, playing that portable game device he loves so much. "She thought I was crazy for asking for it this early in the year, so I think she's probably worried that I'm coming down with something. Feel better?"

"A lot. Thanks, Jamie," Jack says warmly, shaking his head a little to wake himself up. The lethargy that has clung to him all day is now held at bay, but it's not completely banished, even with the cool air from the fan.

He glances above Jamie's head to the closed window, where sun is getting lower in the sky. Even the late hour hasn't lessened the repressive heat, and Jack knows he'll need to head back to cooler climates before he really feels better.

Jamie probably reads the regret on Jack's face. "Aw, we didn't even get to really play this time."

"I know. I forget that I get like this when it's warm out," he says sheepishly.

"Plus, you didn't really come here to play, anyway," Jamie grouses good-naturedly.

"No, I came to get some words from my favorite advice-monger, I guess," Jack says with a laugh. "Thanks, Jamie. For helping. You always know what to say."

"Yeah, I know," Jamie states. "That's why you come to visit even when it's really hot." He smiles. "No offense, Jack, but don't come back 'till winter this time."

Jack grins. "Alright, then, wise guy. Wish granted."

Jamie climbs to his feet and wraps Jack in a hug, which the frost spirit returns at once. "It's not really my wish," he says, voice muffled by Jack's arms. "I'll miss you."

"I know," Jack says, throat constricting a little in the way it does at the end of every Northern Winter. "I'll miss you, too."

Jamie releases him with obvious reluctance. "Tell Bunny we haven't seen him in a while. Sophie's wondering why."

"Okay."

"And stop fighting with him all the time," he adds with a grin.

"Will try," Jack says, mock saluting. He is outside in a flash, and after a quick goodbye to Sophie from her bedroom window, he turns north to cold climates, his wind hurrying him along effortlessly. He can feel its faint stirrings which signal an upcoming job, but he ignores them.

After all, he and the Guardians have some patching up to do.

.

.

.

**A/N: **So. Yeah. It's a little embarrassing that it's been over a month since I've updated, but the end of the school year has been kind of insane. Huge apologies to all, and thanks for sticking around for more!

I'm not quite happy with this chapter and may return to edit it at some point. I almost always end up going back to fix things…and along those lines, special thanks to KTrevo for kind reviews and for always calling me out on accidentally switching Jack's and Jamie's names. All those Js are really confusing! :-P

Thanks again for reading! Let me know what you thought?

~ket


	5. Fading

**Chapter Summary: **Jack loses a few friends in Burgess, and the ones he has aren't looking too good. That doesn't mean they're ready to give up the fight, though.

**.**

**Fading**

**.**

Jamie spits the blood from his mouth, running his tongue over his teeth. It _feels_ like they're all still there. He'd hate for Tooth to have to swing by, maybe to scold him for losing a grown-up tooth, but he vaguely remembers that he hasn't seen her in a very long time.

"What a runt," Paul Brickford jeers. He's a tall, dark-eyed sophomore who towers over Jamie in normal circumstances, but even more so now that Jamie is defensively crouching low to the ground with his side against the wall. Another jolt of pain in his ribs as he's kicked again, this time only halfheartedly with the side of a boot. "Doesn't even put up a fight."

"What'd you expect?" Leonard Lydell laughs, playfully jabbing his friend and shaking blond hair from his eyes. "Idiot still believes in friggin' Santa Claus."

If Jamie could channel Jack's daring for just a moment—and if he could get his mouth to work properly again—he might object that _the real name is North, thanks_, but he can't quite manage it.

"Look, let's get outta here, anyway," Leonard says suddenly. "Not like this moron's doing anything interesting anymore. 'Sides, if we stay here too long, the teachers are gonna get off break."

"Sure," Paul agrees, landing one more kick as a parting gift. "No telling, okay, Bennett?" he says, as cheerfully as though they are best friends in the world.

Jamie feels his head nod of its own accord. After the pair of them leave, he picks up his books and papers, shoves them into his backpack, and limps to his biology class like nothing has happened.

But today will be the last time that he speaks of the Guardians to his peers.

.

His mother is less frantic than he thought she'd be, but she lays one hand on his cheek and stares unhappily at the bruises on it for a long time. She makes him sit on the table while she gets out the first aid kit. The kitchen smells vaguely of antiseptic as she patches him up, and it makes Jamie a little nauseous. She doesn't say a word until she's finished.

"Jamie," she murmurs, her brown eyes pleading. "Just _tell_ me what this is about."

He shakes his head. "I just don't get along with them, Mom. That's all." That and the fact that he's fourteen and he still believes in the Guardians. For a freshman in high school, that sort of thing is pretty much a plea for ostricization, or even a death wish in some contexts. Jamie is maybe too open for his own good about his beliefs, and it's gotten him his fair share of strange looks and even stray blows.

"This is the third time this school year, Jamie, and you _never _used to have problems like this. If you'd just move to Kensington High—"

"No, Mom. I want to stay at Woodward. Besides, even if I moved, it wouldn't change anything." They both know that there are always other bullies, and Jamie seems to attract them by nature.

She sighs, cradling her head in her hands. "I just wish…"

"I know. Don't worry, Mom," he says tiredly, hopping off the table. His left knee twinges in pain. "I can handle it."

She drops a kiss on his head. "You shouldn't have to."

Normally, she might have tried to worm the names of the bullies out of him, but this has become such a familiar scene in the Bennett household that she knows better than to try. Jamie knows what happens to squealers, and the last thing he needs is for his mom to phone the principal with _actual _evidence. He has the feeling that she might call the school anyway, but since Jamie has feigned amnesia whenever he is asked about the incidents, there isn't much to be done.

"Don't worry," he says again, but this time it's mostly to himself.

.

Jamie has been reading the signs for the past few weeks. The temperature has already started to dip, the wind has picked up, and the signature fern frost has begun decorating the windows. Jack is laying the foundations for the winter snow, and he'll be ready to make an appearance soon enough.

Somehow, though, Jack still manages to catch him off-guard. Jamie is trudging home from the ice rink late in the afternoon, the laces of his skates tied together neatly so he can let them dangle from one shoulder and sling his hockey stick over the other, when a cold burst of wind catches him from the side.

"Hey, Jamie!" Jack cries suddenly, hugging his friend.

Jamie has noticed that Jack doesn't stiffen anymore like he sometimes used to when Jamie hugged him, and he even hugs Jamie of his own accord now. Usually that's great, but today Jack's arm catches him in the side where Paul Brickford beat the crap out of his ribcage, and he can't help but wince.

Jack notices. "Whoa—sorry. You okay? Hey, are those _bruises?_" he asks, leaning in to peer at Jamie's face.

Jamie waves him off, laughing. "I'm fine, Jack," he says, though he is much more careful to glance around and make sure that no one is nearby to hear him apparently talking to himself. "It's hockey. Roughhousing is a given."

Jack's brow furrows, but he seems to buy it. "Since when are you on the hockey team?" he asks, smiling.

"Since soccer season ended and I had nothing to do with myself," Jamie says with a laugh.

"Fair enough." Jack grins his mischievous grin, and Jamie realizes that small snowflakes have already begun to fall from the sky. "Well, let's get your gear home and go out to play. It's kind of early in the season, but does a snow day sound good?"

"You have _no _idea."

.

Jamie probably should have warned Jack, but in his defense, he doesn't really know how to bring it up.

Besides, Jack is distracted by the kids that follow him excitedly to the park for the first snowball fight of the year, and he chatters and plays and is practically glowing with happiness.

Jamie is the oldest kid there, and he sticks out like a sore thumb, even with Sophie bouncing up and down on his back. At eight years old, she's almost too big to be carried, but he indulges her still from time to time.

"Faster, faster!" she orders excitedly, and he smiles affectionately, knowing she can't see.

"You know how heavy you are, Soph?" he asks, laughing.

"C'mon, Jamie!" she whines. "We have to catch up with Jack! All the _other_ kids are running."

"All the other kids don't have elephants on their backs," he grumbles, but he spurts forward nevertheless, ignoring the pain in his knee as Sophie's screams of laughter ring in his ears.

"Yeah, Jamie! We're gaining on 'em!" She begins making noises like a racecar motor as they shoot past the other celebrating children (who admittedly have shorter legs than Jamie's). "Jack's the finish line! Go, go!"

He catches up with Jack after a minute, grinning widely and panting a little in exertion, and Jack laughs and makes the snowflakes dance around their heads. "You guys ready for epic battle?" he asks, wiggling his eyebrows cheerfully. "There're more kids than ever this year! We'll fight to the death!" he cries dramatically.

Jamie can't help but laugh as the frost spirit flits back and forth in the air, unable to contain his excitement. It's times like this when it's easy to forget that Jack was technically seventeen when he died. Because right now, he looks more like an exuberant first-grader.

Jack's grin suddenly becomes even wider, and Jamie's stomach drops when he follows his line of sight.

"Jack—" he begins, but it's too late.

"Hey, Claude! Caleb!" The twins are walking down the street in their direction. Claude smiles and gives a wave, and for a second, Jamie thinks that everything will be alright, until he realizes that the twins are focused on _him._

"Hey, Jamie!" Caleb says, once they're in earshot. "Did you get roped into doing that Jack Frost thing with Sophie?" He offers the girl in question a quick smile.

"I _want _to do it," Jamie counters quietly.

"I guess you've always been good with little kids," Claude murmurs.

Jack's icy blue eyes are flickering back and forth. "Caleb? Claude?" he says hesitantly. "Haven't seen you guys in a while."

"We're on the way to Monty's for a movie marathon," Caleb says, as though he hasn't heard. Which he hasn't. "You should swing by when you finish with…all this."

"Yeah," Claude agrees. "Just throw a couple snowballs for us or something." She moves past Jamie and brushes past Jack. Except that she doesn't quite brush past, and her shoulder never catches on Jack's—it just keeps going right through.

Jamie sees Jack shudder, and Sophie's grip tightens around her brother's neck.

"See you later, Jamie!" Claude calls.

"Yeah. See you," Jamie replies unhappily, but he hasn't looked away from Jack, who is staring open-mouthed at his friends' retreating backs. The twins are oblivious to the scene they leave behind: the kids around Jack have noticed that something is wrong, because they aren't cheering or excited anymore. All eyes are on the frost spirit, who has visibly wilted.

"Jack?" a little freckle-faced boy says hesitantly. Jack doesn't reply right away, so the boy gingerly takes the frost spirit's hand. "Don't be sad."

Jack looks down, as though surprised at the touch. He shakes himself. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine." After a beat, he plasters a smile back onto his face. "Let's go have some fun, okay?"

"Okay!" The boy nods, and the bubbling excitement begins to slowly build back up in the rest of the kids until they are all prancing toward the park once more.

Jamie and Sophie alone remain quiet. Jamie waits a minute before sidling up to Jack.

"Jack…" he begins again, uncertainly.

Jack falters. "It's okay, Jamie. I'll worry about it later."

Sophie leans over, unbalancing Jamie a little, to reach for a lock of Jack's hair. She gently tugs it twice, just like Jack has always liked to do teasingly with her blonde curls.

Jack smiles at her. "I'm okay, Soph," he says. "Let's go have some fun."

.

Much later, Jack and Jamie sit with their backs against the window of Jamie's room. The glass is cold even through Jamie's shirt, but he gets the feeling that Jack just needs someone to sit with him right now while he thinks.

The snowball fight turned out to be spectacular, as always. Jack was right about it being more fun with more kids: snow forts were created, sides were chosen, and lines were drawn. Jamie and Sophie are practically seasoned veterans at this point, and their team almost always wins by default. Jack, as usual, didn't really pick sides at all, just flitted back and forth to supply ammo or to take one team or another down a peg. He seemed cheerful enough, but as soon as the kids were gone, he drooped again.

When they returned, Sophie hung around Jamie's room, hovering uncertainly around her friend until Jamie finally kicked her out. "Make him feel better, Jamie," she whispered to him as she left. He nodded, not sure at all what he was meant to do, but he was willing to try.

"How long?" Jack asks suddenly.

Jamie takes a moment to figure out what he means. "Claude and Caleb stopped believing a couple months ago, maybe. Over the summer, they just…lost it. Every time I'd bring you up, they kinda looked at me like I was being dumb. And it's not just them either," he adds hesitantly. "Monty and Cupcake don't believe anymore."

The frost spirit lets out a low whistle. "I guess I just don't get it. I mean, I make sure to come by every year. I thought…maybe as long as I did that, you wouldn't forget me."

"It's not your fault, Jack," Jamie says softly. "They don't believe in anyone. Not North, or Tooth, or…"

Jack looks surprised. "But…how? We look out for you guys more than anyone. North adds extra presents in your stockings. Sandy gives you guys only your favorite dreams. Bunny paints his eggs special for you, and Tooth leaves all of you her best goodies. How…?"

"I don't know. Even with all that stuff, you're the only one we ever see, Jack. You're the only one who's come in years, and you only come when you can during the winter. Maybe they just…forgot."

Jack frowns. "Yeah, I know the others haven't come. They used to say they were too busy, but…when I told Bunny that Sophie's been asking for him, he just said that this is how things are meant to be. Eventually, kids stop believing, and it's best to keep out. Let them move on."

Fear twists something in Jamie. "Me and Sophie, though, we won't stop believing in you, Jack. You know that. You've still got us."

The frost spirit gives Jamie a long, bleak stare. "Yeah, I know," he agrees, but Jamie can tell he doesn't. A thought seems to occur to Jack. "I guess…I guess you _are _kind of old to believe in me. You're the oldest believer I've got."

Jamie offers a weak grin. "You're not getting rid of me that easy."

But Jack still stares thoughtfully. "How do you hold up, then? I mean, if even the _others _have stopped believing…people are gonna start thinking you're crazy or something."

"They already do," Jamie says, rolling his eyes. "It's nothing I can't handle. You're my best friend, Jack."

"And you're mine," Jack replies instantly. "But Jamie…" his gaze is too perceptive. "Those bruises aren't really from hockey, are they? They didn't look like it. And you wear a helmet to cover most of your face."

Jamie sighs. "Like I said, it's nothing I can't handle."

The expression on Jack's face darkens. "Did someone…? Because of me?"

"_Jack,_" Jamie says, warningly.

"Why didn't you say something?"

"What was I _supposed _to say, Jack? 'You're my best friend, but people don't like it when I talk about you?' Or 'these guys beat me up the other day because I actually believe in the Guardians?'"

Jack looks hurt. "Something like that."

"Ugh," Jamie moans, putting his head in his hands. "This is exactly why I didn't want to tell you. You take it personally."

"Of _course _I take it personally! My _best friend _got beat up because of me!"

"See?" Jamie sighs. "I didn't want you to feel like it's your fault. And I mean…you sort of come and go during the winter, so I didn't want you to have to worry about stupid stuff like this. And you're the Guardian of _Fun. _You always show up in a good mood, and that's what I like about you, and I didn't want to ruin everything."

"You're not ruining everything," Jack argues. "Besides," he adds darkly, "it can be _fun _for me to pay a little visit to the guys who did this to you."

"It's _fine, _Jack," Jamie says, smiling in spite of himself. "They just…don't understand things like I do. And it hurts," _in more ways than one, _he thinks, "but I kind of get it."

The frost spirit looks at Jamie with such a sad expression that the boy is momentarily taken aback. "A while ago, you would have taken me up on that offer in a second," he says.

"Yeah, well…" he begins defensively.

"You _are_ growing up."

Jamie somehow feels almost ashamed. Regretful. "Like I said. I just get where they're coming from. If I'd never met you, I'd probably think I was weird too."

"Yeah, but you wouldn't have beaten someone up."

"Probably not," Jamie agrees.

In the quiet that follows his statement, Jamie notices a shadow at the foot of his door. Abby whines and scratches for a minute until someone, Sophie probably, pulls her away.

"Jamie…" Jack begins tentatively. "Maybe Bunny's right."

Jamie's mind drifts back to figure out what Jack means. His stomach sinks. "No, Jack."

"But maybe it really is for the best," Jack says softly. "Easier. I mean, there's no reason for you to have to go through life with people looking at you like…"

"_No, _Jack."

"Bunny said that people start to forget naturally when you stop showing up," Jack insists. "You wouldn't have to deal with…"

"Jack," Jamie says firmly, looking the frost spirit right in the eyes. "You're my _best friend._ I don't want you to go anywhere. I don't care what other people think."

Jack still looks uncertain, so Jamie presses on. "Besides. The others stopped believing even though you visit every year, so there's no reason to stay away. _And,_" he adds tightly, putting force behind each word as though he can drive it into the frost spirit's head by determination alone, "I'm _not _going to forget you. Even if you decide to leave me alone and you never come back again, I'm _never _going to forget you. Ever."

If Jack doesn't look completely convinced, at least he looks relieved. "Okay, okay," he concedes finally, smiling for the first time in an hour. "I guess it probably doesn't work if you're too stubborn, anyway."

"I'm serious, Jack. Don't you dare try it."

"I won't."

"_Promise._"

"I promise, okay?"

"Okay."

Jamie's back is still stiff against the window, but he makes a conscious effort to relax. If he wasn't in high school, he thinks, he might have made Jack promise they'd be friends forever, the way he used to when he was a kid. But that's a long time ago now, and Jamie's alright with the promise Jack has made. It's almost as good as the old one.

.

Somehow, Paul Brickford and Leonard Lydell get their just desserts after all.

They rush out of the woods a few days before Halloween, babbling inconsolably like half-wits. As best as anyone can work out, a freak snowstorm—on a clear day, of all things—trapped them both in one of the caves out by Rawlings Hill.

There, they spent nearly three hours haunted by a pale ghost with white hair whose eerie laughter they can't even fully describe. The ghost whispered threatening promises into their ears, of what _might _happen to people who don't behave themselves, and of dangers they _might _face if they can't remember how to play nicely with others.

They emerge from the woods changed and flighty, insisting on the presence of a ghost that doesn't exist and a tale that can't possibly be true. Half of Woodward Private heaves a sigh of relief when the boys show no signs of taking up their "extracurricular activities" again, and the other half watches their nervous breakdown with no small degree of amusement.

Jamie's face meets his palm when he first hears the news, but he can't help but laugh. Jack never directly comes out to tell Jamie that he's responsible, and Jamie's not sure if he should bring it up, but he knows who to thank. Jamie has no idea how Jack could have learned the names of his bullies, but the frost spirit is nothing if not protective of his believers.

If Jamie really is going to grow up, though, he's probably going to have to start fighting his own battles someday.

Today, though, he confronts Paul and Leonard after class and gives them a few pointers. The first is that some things you believe in should be kept to yourself.

Jamie will not speak of Jack again, not to the others here in school, but just because he's growing up doesn't mean that the two of them have to grow apart.

He'll wait by the window for Jack, even if he waits alone.

.

.

.

**A/N: **Yeah, kids are heartless. This one probably had to be done at some point. Our little Jamie needs to grow up! Also, to be completely honest, I kinda had a blast writing something with protective!Jack. The idea of him thinking that scaring bullies is "fun" just cracks me up.

Hopefully the time-jumps aren't too jarring at this point. I try to be obvious about how old Jamie is in each chapter, but if you get confused, just drop me a line.

Thanks for the reviews! Don't forget to tell me what you think!

~ket


	6. Wood-Runner

**Chapter Summary: **Jack helps Jamie with his US History homework. And as it turns out, family finds you wherever you go.

**.**

**Wood-Runner**

**.**

At ten, Sophie is all skinny arms and legs as she bounces in front of Jack in a blur of blue clothes and gleaming teeth. Her wispy blonde hair hangs like dry straw from her head, a white ribbon tangled somewhere near the ends.

"Okay, one more time," she orders, "but even higher."

"Higher?" Jack laughs. "If you go any higher, I won't be able to keep you on."

"Sure, you will," she disagrees. "You won't let anything happen."

"Guess you know me too well."

She grins. "Sure do."

Jack begins bouncing on the trampoline once more, and Sophie follows excitedly. He's careful to time his jumps precisely so that she rockets further and further into the air. With a mortal friend, that might be as far as things go, but Jack lets out a sudden burst of wind just as she begins her last jump.

Sophie blasts even higher, giggling all the while as she flails in the air and plummets dangerously toward the side of the trampoline. As always, the frost spirit catches her with his wind before she can fall.

She is still laughing as her bounces become lower and lower, face red with exhilaration. "That was _so _high! I could see almost all the way to school!"

"We'd better be careful, then," Jack says, and he knows his grin is wolfish. "Wouldn't want any stray teachers to drive themselves crazy wondering why their prize student is fifty feet in the air."

Sophie considers this. "No, actually, that would be really funny. Could we do that?"

Jack lets out a surprised bark of laughter. "Wow, Soph, I think I'm becoming a bad influence on you."

"It was a good idea," she argues defensively, still bouncing idly. "Hey, do you think I was really fifty feet in the air?"

"I dunno, maybe," Jack replies. "Why?"

"How high does Bunny jump, d'you think? Was I higher than him?"

Jack smiles. "_Nobody _can jump higher than Bunny when he means to."

For a moment, Sophie looks disappointed. "I can't really remember him jumping that high."

"He doesn't always," Jack agrees, "but he can if he has to."

Sophie stills. Her pleated uniform jumper is a mess, and she smoothes the skirt of it down with pale hands. "I don't remember that. He hasn't really come to visit in really long time…years, even. Do you think he'll come _this _Easter?"

A twinge of sadness rushes through Jack. He knows that if Bunny has his way, Sophie will never see him again. _She's too old, Jack, _Bunny told him the last time he brought the topic up. _At some point, you have to let 'em go. _Nothing Jack ever says on the subject seems to change his mind, and although the frost spirit gets the feeling that the overgrown kangaroo is as hurt by this turn of events as Sophie is, Bunny shows no signs of budging anytime soon. Which puts Jack in the odd position of middle man.

"I don't know, Soph," he says evasively. "Easter is still months away. It's barely even fall yet."

"Okay. I just thought maybe _you'd _know. Because…it's been a long time."

"You know he cares about you, Soph. He just gets busy, is all. All those eggs and everything."

"Yeah, I guess." She pauses. "I can barely even remember what he looks like."

Jack grimaces, wondering if Bunny is right about all of this. Jack doesn't know who's the coward here, Bunny, for letting go of a believer who still loves him, or Jack himself, for clinging too tightly to what he's afraid to lose. "I'll put in a good word," he promises solemnly, and he means it.

Sophie beams. "Thanks, Jack."

"'Course."

"I wonder how high _he _could make me jump."

"Hey!" Jack cries in mock-betrayal.

"It's okay, Jack," she says, patting him fondly on the arm. "You tried."

"_Sophie!_"

Jack and Sophie both jump in surprise, turning to the Bennett's house, where Sophie's mother is calling out of the open kitchen window.

"I thought I told you to get started on your homework! It's almost six, and I _know_ you have a science test tomorrow."

"Just five more minutes?"

Mrs. Bennett is very good at making threats with only the use of her frown.

"Okay, okay," Sophie yells back, rolling her eyes. The movement amuses Jack, because he thinks that when he visited only a year or two ago, she might have agreed with her mother instantly. "I'll be right there!"

She turns to Jack, grimacing remorsefully. "Sorry."

Jack shrugs with a smile. "It's fine. Besides, apparently I'm not that great at this anyway." She echoes his grin as she clambers off of the trampoline, and he tugs at a tuft of her blonde hair affectionately. "And you needed to stop bouncing so much anyway. You look like an owl in an ivy bush."

Sophie blinks. "A what?"

"Like you're wearing a frizzy wig on your head," he clarifies.

She cheerfully slaps him on the stomach. "Meanie," she says with a fake scowl. "Okay, I'm gonna start my homework. Come and say goodbye when you leave?"

"Okay," he agrees. "But I think I'll stick around for a while. I've still got your brother to annoy."

.

Jamie isn't in the mood for annoyances.

"Jaaayyy-miiiiiie," Jack whines, hopping on the desk table where his friend is busy writing. Jamie spares Jack a glance and lets out a sound of disapproval at the sight of Jack posed barefoot on his textbook, but he turns back to his paper quickly enough. "Come on, you've been at this since school let out. You have to be almost done, right?"

"No, Jack. I _told _you. I have a lot more work to do than usual tonight, so I can't play."

"Then at least take a break. C'mon, it'll be fun," he promises.

Jamie pointedly continues flicking through one of the books he has arranged along the desk and doesn't answer.

"Jamie."

"_No, _Jack."

"Homework doesn't take _that _long. What are you really doing?"

"It's not kid stuff anymore, Jack. I'm a junior in _high school_. There's way more homework now, so I can't do anything tonight."

Jack sighs lowly. Jamie largely ignores him, beginning to scribble in the margins of his loose-leaf paper. As soon as he takes his hand away to flip through the book again, Jack smiles and lets a small breeze lift the paper off his desk and into the air.

Jamie leaps to his feet, but he doesn't chase the paper around the room like Jack intends. "Jack, stop it."

"Just a little break, Jamie—"

"_Stop_." His voice has taken on a dangerous tone, and Jack relents, floating the paper to land back neatly into its place. He clambers down from the desk, swinging his staff over his shoulder.

"Sorry," he sighs, flinging himself onto Jamie's bed. The room is quiet as the breeze settles, but Jack can't hear the scratching of Jamie's pen.

After a moment, Jamie exhales slowly, running a hand through his hair. "Not your fault. I'm just in a little over my head, that's all."

"Yeah?" Jack asks, taking the lifeline. Jamie turns to face him. "What's the subject?"

"US History, AP," Jamie spits out, almost bitterly. At Jack's questioning look, he adds, "Advanced Placement. They say it's for the gifted kids, but it's really for the idiots who want to put themselves through a ton of extra work."

"Ah," Jack says, rolling into a sitting position. "So you're one of the idiots?"

"Looks like," Jamie says, amused. "It's not normally this bad, though," he admits. "I just drew the short straw this time. Everyone in the class was assigned a different topic, and we're supposed to teach the class about it. But I can't find out much about mine…there's only a little bit in the textbook. And of course, the library's closed."

"So you're stuck? When's it due?"

"Tomorrow."

"Yikes. You're pushing it."

"I know, thanks," Jamie says, shooting his friend a withering glare.

"What's it on?"

Jamie grabs one of the papers. "I basically have to give some details about at least one occupation of the French settlers in the area…they were some of the first to get here way back when, so…" He doesn't notice Jack's widening smile.

"You're in luck!" the frost spirit crows.

"Why?" Jamie asks warily.

Jack points to himself. "Three hundred years old, remember? I was around before there _was _a United States. I can help."

"Really?" Jamie asks, eyes widening. "I never thought about it like that. Wow. _Wow. _You're, like…really old, Jack."

"What a rude young whippersnapper," Jack laughs, lightly tapping Jamie on the head with the end of his staff.

"You know what I mean," Jamie retorts, pushing the staff away and turning to shuffle the stack of papers. "Okay, then, wise guy, what can you tell me?"

Jack hums thoughtfully. "Well, a lot, I guess." He pauses. "Because I lived most of it. I mean, _really_ lived—not as a spirit."

Jamie turns in his seat, eyebrows rising, but he says nothing. Jack has told him how he died and became a spirit, but that's all Jamie knows, and his friend has never pressed for information on Jack's buried past.

The frost spirit settles cross-legged onto the bed, taking a moment to get comfortable and to wind his thoughts back. Hazy images float to the surface of his mind, dimmed by time and distance, but he remembers enough.

"You'll never believe it, but my Dad was French," he begins, grinning the surprised _what, really? _look from Jamie, who begins scribbling into his notebook. "Told you, you lucked out. Anyway, a long time ago before I was even born, he came overseas with a whole band of other Frenchmen, or at least that's how he always told the story. All of them wanted to get in on the fur trade. For some reason, beaver fur was a huge deal back then."

"_Beaver_ fur?" Jamie asks skeptically. "Like, the normal brown rodent-things?"

"Yeah, I don't really get it either," Jack laughs. "It was supposed to be super soft, 'specially the fur on their stomachs. And the European beavers were practically all made into winter coats by that point, so it was kind of a big thing to have a new supply."

He remembers vaguely his one and only trip to a port city—what was the name of it again? His father had gone to sell the pelts to the shipyard merchants, and Jack was finally old enough to go. "The pelts didn't look like anything much when Dad traded for them," he admits, "but when you saw them all sewn together in a coat, they looked alright." Warm, too—much warmer than anything he or Becca would ever wear.

"So your Dad and the others came to hunt beavers to make coats," Jamie prompts.

"What? Oh, well, not exactly. See, there were also Native Americans in the area—but I guess they probably taught you that, right? Well, they lived out farther west when I was alive, miles out of the village, and they knew more about how to catch and skin beavers than just about anyone in the world." He blinks thoughtfully. "Well, I never met any of them in person—Dad didn't want us traveling so far off—but that's what he always told us. So, anyway, my Dad and people like him just traded with them for beaver furs. I remember he used to trade almost anything…pretty beads, different kinds of cloth, steel weapons, alcohol. Anything he could think of that they might ask for."

Jamie shakes his head solemnly. "But that kind sounds like a huge risk. I mean, we learned about all kinds of things that went wrong in the early settlements. Diseases and stuff. And especially conflicts with the Native Americans, so coming overseas to make money on fur doesn't sound like such a great life."

"You'd think that, wouldn't you?" Jack asks, smiling. "But my Dad loved it. He got to call his own shots and make his own money—and they were well-paid back then, the _coureurs de bois. _That's what they called themselves; it means 'wood-runners,' 'cause they knew the forests in the area so well. It was kind of like owning your own business and doing what you wanted when you wanted. And besides that, you got to explore the wilderness, you know? Meet people from a different culture, that kind of thing. If you knew my Dad, you'd get it," Jack adds, smiling fondly at the memory of warm, dark eyes and a rough, whiskered chin.

Jamie finishes jotting down a few more notes before he stops and looks at Jack. "But if he came over here…did he have to leave your mom behind in France?"

Jack shakes his head pensively. "This was before they met." His mother had a penchant for storytelling, and the tale of his parents' meeting had always been a favorite of hers. His father told it a bit differently, though. "Actually, he used to say he came for the adventure and stayed for my mom. Before they got married and everything, Dad used to wander in and out of the woods all over the area looking for native trappers and villages. He knew a good amount of their language. Enough to get by, anyway—_ha!_ Even though there was that one time with the misunderstanding where he got run out of their village." But that, Jack remembers, is a story that he only heard from his mother years after it had happened, once his parents' fright had faded into amusement.

"Anyway, he met my mom in an English settlement closer to the coast, but once they married they moved out west—here, to Burgess, even though it didn't have a name back then—because it meant Dad didn't have to travel so far when he went out."

"Okay. And then they had you?"

"And then they had me," he agrees, tapping his thumb absently against the bedpost. "Dad still went in and out on business, but he stayed close by in fall and winter. They were the roughest seasons for weather, and sometimes we got low on food. I think he just wanted to be nearby in case we needed him." Not to mention that he had still been in the process of teaching Jack the finer points of hunting and handling weapons when Jack died.

Jack shook his head roughly. "Plus, he couldn't exactly paddle a canoe in the frozen rivers. Either way, I think he liked hanging around, you know? And I learned a lot of stuff from him when he had time…ice fishing, hunting, snowshoeing. He probably learned most of it from the Native Americans in the area, but still. And we had a lot of fun, too. We had snowball fights and made snow men and snow forts and stuff."

Jamie smiles to himself and mutters something that sounds suspiciously like "_like father, like son_" under his breath. Jack just grins and waves his staff threateningly.

"Yeah," he laughs, "We did a ton off fun stuff in the winter. We could never get Mom to come out, but she liked to keep an eye on us from the window. And it was even more fun when Becca came around. Rebecca was my sister." He clarifies, upon seeing Jamie's confused expression.

"Oh," Jamie blinks. "How old were you when she was born?"

"Six. The age difference is the same for you and Sophie. So I feel your pain," he jokes. "But seriously, Becca was just as cool as Sophie is. This place was only a really small village back then, so we played together a lot. And Mom had me look after her all the time, especially in the spring and summer when Dad wasn't always around. That was a pain," he admits. "I mean, you wouldn't believe how many times she wandered off wildflowers without telling me and got lost."

Jamie snorts. "Sounds familiar."

"Right? And she had the worst sense of direction. I could never keep track of her in the summer when the wildflowers started blooming. It was her favorite season." Becca, with her freckles and sleepy smile and skinny legs. She left those little white starflowers all over the house when they bloomed in July. "She was so funny about it. And she was afraid of beetles—no idea why, but sometimes she'd reach down for a flower and just _spring back,_" he says, mimicking her actions while Jamie grins. "You know, she used to be afraid of water, too. I taught her to swim maybe two summers before I fell into the lake…" he pauses, swallowing. "But she wasn't _really_ a pain to look after or anything, you know? She wasn't really annoying or anything. We had a lot of fun together."

Something of the melancholy he felt must show in his expression. Jamie puts the notebook down on the floor between them and leans forward in his chair.

"I'm sorry, Jack."

Jack smiles, but it's probably a little weak. "Me too," he says. He's been friends with Jamie long enough to know when something's on his mind. Jamie tilts his head with a thoughtful expression on his face. "What?"

"It's just…and you don't have to answer, but…what happened to her? And your parents?"

Jack frowns, and Jamie backpedals.

"You don't have to answer. Really."

"No, it's okay. I don't really know, to be honest," he says quietly. "They're buried in the old part of Rest Haven Cemetary out in Pineview. Mom and Dad died within a year of each other, when they were in their seventies. Becca _got married_," he says, grinning despite himself at how surreal that sounds, "but I'm pretty sure it's her. Different last name, you know. But she's buried nearby. Died at sixty-three. I don't know how any of them died or what happened to them between when I went and they did. It's just weird. Not knowing."

"Maybe with research…?" Jamie begins, but Jack shakes his head.

"Nah. I tried when I could. But in the grand scheme of things, they were just a couple of early settlers who died before there was even a government to keep track of things. They're just…gone."

"Even three hundred years isn't enough time, is it?" Jamie wonders. "You still really miss them."

"Well, I only just remembered that I miss them," Jack says with a twisted grin, "But yeah. I really do. Funny thing is, you forget a lot after all that time, you know? Becca used to sing all these silly little songs, and Dad would play the fiddle to accompany her, but I don't remember what it sounded like. Mom used to make the best rosemary potatoes of anyone, but I don't remember what they tasted like. I can't even really remember what any of their faces looked like anymore."

At the gloomy expression on Jamie's face, Jack shakes himself and sits up straight in the bed. "Anyway, that wasn't where I meant to go with this discussion," he admits, laughing awkwardly. "Did I help any?"

"What? Oh, yeah." Jamie says, looking down at the notebook. "It doesn't have to be long, so it's fine. I just have to organize it."

"Good."

Jamie is too old for hugs (this is self-proclaimed, of course), but to Jack's surprise, he leans in to give the frost spirit a quick embrace. "Thanks, Jack."

Somehow, Jack thinks he's not totally restricting the thanks to the homework help. "Don't mention it." He idly watches Jamie tidy up the stack of books, still caught in a half-memory of a fiddled song by the fireside, when he realizes that Jamie is watching him with that odd, thoughtful look again.

"Spit it out," he says, blinking.

Jamie frowns. "Your Dad was French."

"Yeah. So?"

"Do you speak French?"

"_Bien sûr,_" he says dryly. "Mom spoke English with us in the house all the time, but Dad made sure we knew enough French hold our end of a conversation. Why?"

Jamie grins lazily. "I think you just volunteered to help me with my French homework too."

Jack snorts. "Dirty trick," he says.

"Learned from the best," Jamie counters.

"That's true," Jack admits. "What've you got?"

They spend a long time on the _passé composé_, and Jack pokes fun at Jamie's abysmal accent. It's been ages since he's spoken French—he forgot he knew how—but it's nice to have a conversation partner, even a novice like Jamie. Later, he helps his friend to organize the notes for his History presentation. If Jamie seems a little too gentle with the follow-up questions about Jack's early life, the frost spirit doesn't mention it.

.

Sophie is asleep by the time they finish. Jack hovers outside of her closed window, watching her chest rise and fall. Her hair is splattered all over her pillow, and she has never quite learned to stay all the way on her bed as she sleeps: one leg and one arm dangle dangerously off the side of the bed. Jack knows by now that any efforts to reposition her are pointless, as she seems to have a natural tendency toward sleeping on the floor.

Jack can barely remember what Becca looked like, but if Sophie were a few inches taller, with brown hair and the slightest freckles, they might have been close. In personality, they sometimes seem painfully similar. _Maybe family finds you wherever you go, _Jack thinks.

He leaves frost-drawings of starflowers in the window as a goodbye, and wonders how to yell at Bunny for his absence without _yelling, _per se. After all, you have to keep your family close, these days.

.

.

.

**A/N: **Sorry for the long delay! I'm taking summer classes (yes, Jamie and I are both _those_ idiots).

Threw in a freebie history lesson there, just for you. We learned about the _coureurs de bois _in one of my French classes a while back, and it made me think of Jack. I took liberties with the names and dates, of course. We don't even get his sister's name (the fandom seems to be divided between Pippa and Emma for some reason, but I went with Becca just for kicks). But I even had a bunch more back stories about them and named Jack's dad _Jacques _and his mom _Molly, _but it didn't really make it all the way to the final edit.

Anyway, I'm not totally satisfied with this chapter but I'm posting it anyway, because all the reediting is holding me up—I've pretty much got the next part done already. So look out for another update soon, maybe in a few days (?)

Thanks for the reviews, and let me know what you thought!

Peace,

ket


	7. Consequences

**Chapter Summary: **For a moment, they're the same age. Naturally, this means they get to make mistakes simultaneously. Also, kids, this is STILL not slash.

**Warnings: **Illegal shenanigans. Rating change to K+ for safety.

**.**

**Consequences**

**.**

Jamie greets Jack with a snowball to the face.

It's the first time he's ever gotten a one-up on the winter guardian, and he lets out a whoop of surprised laughter as Jack wipes snow from his eyes, teetering precariously in the branches of the tree whose pine needles he has been frosting.

"_Jamie!_" Jack shouts, and in the half-light of the fading evening, Jamie thinks that his friend looks just as astonished as Jamie feels. "What gives?"

"I saw an opening and I had to take it," Jamie says through his laughter. "Knew you'd be on your way for winter, so I've been keeping my eyes peeled."

"Funny way to say 'hello' to your best friend," Jack grumbles, faking a pout.

"Don't give me that! You always do it to me, and turnabout's fair play."

Jack hums. "I guess it's about time you managed to get me first," he allows, drifting lazily down from the tree to settle in the snow beside Jamie. "After all, it's been…what, nine years? You've got some pretty bad eyes there, buddy."

Jamie shoves his friend playfully. "You too. Didn't exactly dodge, there, did you?"

Jack rolls his eyes and leans in for a brief hug. "You're such a pain," he says affectionately.

"Good to see you, too."

Jack pulls away, blue eyes flickering up and down his friend's figure. "_Jamie!" _he cries suddenly, outraged.

Jamie jumps, warily gauging the expression on his friend's face. "What?"

"You're as tall as I am! Maybe even…" he trails off, his mouth open in wonder.

"I think the word you're looking for here is 'taller,'" Jamie suggests mischievously.

"When did this happen?" Jack asks, folding his arms.

"You know. In between you going and coming," Jamie says nonchalantly.

"Fine, fine," Jack grumbles. "But you should probably stop there. Play fair with people who are stuck at the same height forever, right?"

"I don't think that's how it works—"

"_Any_way," Jack interrupts, and Jamie grins at his friend's feigned annoyance. "Wanna do something? I was about to head over anyway. I'm all icicle-d out."

Jamie hesitates, real life flooding back to him. Before he saw the shock of white hair and frost in the pine tree, he had been on his way to Caleb's, and he's not exactly sure that Jack will want to follow him for this kind of thing. "Uh," he fumbles. "Maybe not tonight."

Jack blinks. "Aw, _c'mon_. It's my first time back in months! You're not mad, are you? I _said_ I was sorry for freezing the your hockey stuff together last time, right?"

"No, you didn't," Jamie remembers, amused. "But that's not why I can't. It's just that I've got other plans, that's all."

"What other plans?"

"You know, just…" he sighs. "I was going hang out with Caleb."

Jack's expression goes carefully blank. "Oh, right. Okay. Well, uh—I can just go see what Sophie's up to. I'm sure she—"

"Jack," Jamie cuts in, "It's not that I don't want you to come. You can come if you want to. There'll be tons of people there anyway. It's kind of, um…" He breaks off, scowling at the confused look on Jack's face. Jamie spits it all out in one breath: "It's a party, okay? One of Caleb's cousins just turned twenty-one, and Caleb's dad's out of town, and there's gonna be alcohol, and everyone from school's going, and…"

Jack is grinning wolfishly at him. "What, you thought I'd tell you not to go or something?"

A rush of relief eases through Jamie. "Guess not," he says sarcastically. "Why would the Guardian of Fun be against a huge party?"

"No idea why you even thought that in the first place," Jack smiles. "So are we heading straight over?"

"You _sure _you want to come?"

"Got nothing else to do," Jack says with a shrug.

Jamie pauses. "You know this isn't, like, a normal birthday party, right?" He asks hesitantly, and maybe it's stupid, but Jack still surprises him sometimes with little things like not knowing how to work a gas stove. Or a toaster. "There's not really a birthday cake, and people are probably gonna be getting kind of crazy…"

He needn't have worried, though, because Jack is shooting him an incredulous look. "I've been around a while, Jamie," he says.

"Okay, fair enough," Jamie allows, the last of the hesitance slipping away.

"How did _you _get roped into this kind of shebang, though?" Jack laughs, gliding beside Jamie as he trudges through the light layer of powder snow. "This isn't really your style. Aren't you supposed to be…I don't know, at home with your nose in a book? Or playing video games? Or doing some other kind of parent-approved activity?"

Jamie shoots him a glare at that last, but relents. "Caleb can be kind of convincing when he wants to be. Claude, too," he adds as an afterthought. "Besides, it's not like I won't know anybody. Pippa and Monty are coming, too, and Cupcake said she might come late."

Jack hums. "Well, it's probably good for you, anyway."

"Good for me how?"

"You work too hard. You gotta take a night off every now and then and have a little _fun._"

Jamie nearly cracks up. "I didn't know you were the Guardian of this kind of fun, too," he chuckles.

"Hey, fun is fun. And I'm an opportunistic kinda guy."

.

The party is the kind Jamie has only ever seen in movies. Caleb and Claude's two story house is fairly filled with people, who spill onto the lighted lawn in the backyard as well. It's less wild dancing and more casual talking, but it's loud enough given the crowd inside and the deafening music. He coughs at the smoky smell of cigarettes and something sweeter.

A glance behind him finds the frost spirit looking alert and faintly thoughtful, but Jamie doesn't think he'd be able to hear if he asked why, so he shoulders his way past a few unfamiliar faces—college students, probably, and friends of Caleb's cousin—until he spots Caleb sitting on the counter in the kitchen. He's talking to some people Jamie's never seen before, including a girl who's leaning in nonchalantly with dreamy eyes. The beer cans just inside of Caleb's reach suggest that he might be too buzzed to notice.

"Jamie," Caleb shouts happily, sitting up straighter. The girl steps back. "You made it."

"You only bugged me about it for two weeks," Jamie smiles, rolling his eyes. "Where is everybody?"

"Claude and Pippa are out in the yard, last I saw. Dunno where Monty got to. Cupcake's late."

"I heard."

Caleb adjusts his knit hat. "Anyway, man, these are some'a Chrissy's friends." Chrissy being the cousin, Jamie's mind supplies helpfully. Introductions are made, and the mooning girl waves vaguely in Jamie's direction.

He shoots a discreet glance at Jack, wondering what he's supposed to do with a frost spirit who can't interact with anyone else, but Jack seems to get the picture. He flashes a comfortable smile in Jamie's direction and settles against the wall near a corner, out of the way of traffic. _I'm fine, no worries, _the smile says.

_Okay, then, _Jamie thinks. _I guess this works. _

Caleb grabs him a beer, and it gets a little fuzzier from there.

.

About an hour in, Jamie's bored with the friends of Chrissy's whose names he can't remember. He thinks it's probably more because of the tedious conversation than anything the alcohol's done to him. It only takes about five minutes for him to realize that he doesn't care about the debate over new vegan diet that's sweeping the campus, and his exasperation with the subject has only been building.

Jack has migrated around house over time, periodically coming back to check on Jamie, but he now rests near the window to the backyard, where he sits watching the partygoers mill about. At one point, Jamie is sure, Jack had something to do with the guy who caused a ruckus by slipping into the pool, but the frost spirit gives his friend such an open and innocent expression that Jamie can't help but laugh.

_It must be really odd_, Jamie thinks, _to be surrounded by a ton of people and not to be able to talk to a single one of them._ This is a recurring thought, of course. Jack's tailed him to sports games, recitals, parties, festivals, and more. Jamie knows that Jack's used to it by now, but Jamie somehow feels lonely _for _Jack sometimes. And right now, the Guardian of Fun is looking intolerably bored.

Jamie straightens abruptly from where he has been leaning against the countertop. "Think I'm gonna see what Monty's up to," he explains to Caleb, who nods and tosses him a beer "for the road." Jamie has no intentions of looking for Monty, though, and he instead shoots Jack a meaningful look.

The guardian follows him toward the living room and grabs him by the shoulder when he sways a little. "Alright there, buddy?" Jack asks, amused.

"Shut up, Jack," he gripes. It's so loud that it's unlikely that anyone will notice him apparently talking to himself. His head buzzes in time to the music. "Let's go somewhere less…" he can't find the word.

"Sure thing," Jack agrees, leading Jamie up the stairs. Jamie doesn't ask how the Guardian knows his friend's house so well, because even though Jack doesn't understand toasters, he usually knows things when it matters.

They slip into Caleb's bedroom and creep through the window, stepping onto the slant of roof that overlooks the front yard.

"Watch it," Jack cautions. The light layer of snow hasn't really stuck on the house, but Jamie is careful not to slip on the slick tiles in the darkness. It's not as cold as it was earlier, he thinks slowly, but the beer might have warmed him up.

They settle further up, close to the highest point of the roof. Jamie hums absently, listening to the music booming from the backyard. From somewhere inside his hoodie, Jack procures a small bottle of something. Jamie leans in to read the label.

"_Vodka, _Jack_?_"

The spirit looks inordinately pleased with himself. "It was sitting the pantry off of the kitchen."

"Somehow, I don't think Caleb's parents will like you taking their hard liquor."

The frost spirit shrugs. "Don't think they'll know _I _took it. Besides, I'm already on the naughty list." He grins. "Actually, I'm never _off _the naughty list."

Jamie shares the grin, but he's still doubtful. "Won't Caleb get in trouble if his parents find out it's missing or something?"

"'Course, but not because of me. People were already raiding the pantry, and even if they weren't, I get the feeling he'd be in trouble anyway."

Jamie follows Jack's line of sight down to the yard below. They peer at the trash scattered all over the front lawn, watch the girl puking in the bushes, listen to the music blaring from the house. "Yeah, probably so," Jamie sighs. He pops the tab on the beer can, looking pointedly at his friend.

Jack opens the bottle, grinning. "Cheers," he says, and they drink. Almost immediately, the frost spirit splutters and coughs, screwing his face up in distaste.

Jamie shakes his head fondly. "Why'd you take it, then?"

"North never lets me have any."

Jamie throws his head back and laughs. "Seriously?"

"You're one to talk."

"Yeah, this stuff is pretty disgusting too."

"Why do people even drink this? _For fun?_"

"You know, I have no idea."

Jack takes another tentative sip of the vodka, wrinkles his nose, and offers the bottle to Jamie, who shrugs and accepts it. It tastes bitter and burns on the way down.

He meets Jack's eyes and they both crack up laughing, and for a moment, they're the same age, just two stupid teenagers doing something because they're told not to. Jamie occasionally struggles with the mind-blowing concept that one day he'll be _older _than _Jack_, who has been alive for over three hundred years, but today is not one of those days.

Today, he abandons the beer and shares the most disgusting vodka on the face of the planet with his best friend.

"When was the last time we hung out like this?" Jamie wonders, passing the bottle back.

Jack shoots him an odd look. "We always hang out."

"Not really. I mean, you hang out with me, but I'm always…you, know, working or something. On homework or tests or something."

"Don't forget the college applications," Jack says, grimacing again as he takes another swig.

"Ugh, don't remind me." Jamie whines. "It's gotten way worse since I saw you in the spring. I have a scholarship essay due next Friday."

Jack chuckles, shaking his head. "See what I mean. You _are _always working."

"Yeah, well, I don't mean to be. I wish I had more time like I used to."

"It doesn't matter, Jamie," Jack murmurs. "You're growing up. Things change. You know how it goes."

"I do. But I wish I didn't." He shoots a sidelong glance at Jack as he takes the offered bottle. "It'd be nice if I could grow up and land a job like yours, though."

"Ha. Good luck. I'm one of a kind."

Jamie rolls his eyes. "Thank God." His words are punctuated by a sharp bang from the direction of the backyard. "What the…?"

Both of them turn just in time to see a burst of white flash from the other side of the roof and into the air, where it explodes into a thousand silver sparkles.

"Are they serious?" Jamie wonders aloud.

"Time to go!" Jack cries suddenly, grabbing Jamie by the arm. For a second, Jamie thinks the alcohol is playing tricks on him, but then he realizes that Jack has called up the wind to float them down to the ground.

"Jack!" he cries accusingly, peering about to make sure no one has seen. Apparently, though, the firework was enough of a distraction.

"What?" Jack asks brashly. "No one's looking—and they're all drunk, anyway." He begins dragging Jamie towards his home just as another firework lights up the sky. "_No _sense of self-preservation," The spirit gripes. "Seriously, I can't_ believe_ they're setting off fireworks. Might as well call the cops over themselves."

Jamie worms out of Jack's grip, though he continues to follow his friend. He chokes out a sudden laugh once he sees what Jack's holding.

The frost spirit glances down and back up at his friend, sheepish. "What? We didn't finish the bottle."

.

They finish the bottle.

Things get a little hazier after that. The walk home becomes longer than Jamie remembers it, and light snow begins to fall. Jamie isn't sure if Jack means to do it or if the vodka has encouraged it.

Later, Jamie isn't sure who threw the first snowball, but all of a sudden, war breaks out. It doesn't help that neither of them have great aim at the moment, or that it takes a few minutes to figure out how to stand back up once they fall in the snow—but that just makes it more challenging.

After that, he can't quite remember. At some point, Jamie is flying through the air with Jack. There are periods of uncontrolled laughter over stupid things. They might have made snow angels and a lopsided snowman at some point.

The pieces come together slowly as Jamie wakes up. He is absolutely _freezing_ cold and lying huddled on something hard.

When he tries to open his eyes, his head throbs painfully like someone's trying to stab it with an ice pick, and he groans miserably. _If this is a hangover, _he thinks, _I'm never doing this again._

After a few minutes of unsuccessfully trying to convince his head to stop imploding, he pries his eyes open and looks around. Wherever they are is covered in a layer of blurry whiteness.

There's an open window, and Jack is fast asleep sitting propped up against the glass pane, his mouth hanging open as he snores softly. Snow is settled like a blanket over his outstretched legs.

Jamie doesn't think he can get up yet without puking, so he hits Jack's leg. There's no response. "_Jack,_" he hisses, hitting his friend again.

Jack starts, wincing at the sudden movement. "_Ow. _What…? 'S'it morning?"

"Think so," Jamie murmurs. He groans as he wipes snow from his face and neck. When the room stops spinning, he realizes that the hockey poster he's looking at is his own. They're in his bedroom, and every horizontal layer has been covered in a good three inches of snow. The papers on his desk are probably ruined. It's a good thing his school books are under the bed.

In his bedroom. In his _bedroom._

"_Oh my God,_" Jamie cries suddenly, struggling to sit up. "My room! There's snow all over everything—the floors are hardwood—Mom's gonna _kill_ me!"

Jack yawns groggily. "In your room?" he asks, confused.

"Yeah, there's snow _in my room, _Jack!" He gets to his feet and wobbles to the window, nearly tripping over his friend as he leans against the glass for support. Overnight, Jack has brought in enough snow to cover everything outside in white. Normally, Jamie might have been thrilled at prospect of the untouched, colorless landscape, but today it just makes his stomach churn.

Or is that the alcohol?

"Mkay." Jack's eyes are closed.

"No, Jack, wake up!"

The frost spirit blinks at his friend's anxious expression and then shakes his head vigorously. "Snow in your room. Okay. Um."

"She's gonna kill me," Jamie decides sagely.

"No she won't," Jack says halfheartedly, rubbing his forehead and using his staff to steady himself as he stands.

Jamie waits for him to elaborate. He doesn't. "Okay," Jamie agrees, dropping to sit in the snow on his bed, "do you have a magical way to make the snow _go away?_"

"No. But, uh, maybe we can come up with something."

"Unless you want to help shovel it all out—" Jamie begins, bending over to scoop up some snow. His stomach churns violently, and he is barely able to rush out of his room, leaving a trail of snow in the hallway behind him, before the contents of his stomach meet the inside of toilet bowl.

When he feels well enough to look up, Jack is grimacing behind him. "Yeah, she's probably going to kill you."

They manage to dump about a third of the snow from the hardwood floor out of the window before his mother pokes her head in to see why he's making so much noise on an early Saturday morning. He barely has time to brace himself once he sees the shock on her face.

"Oh my _God, _Jamie, what _happened? _How did this—you left the window open?"

"Um, yeah. On accident." He swallows back another bout of nausea.

"And you didn't notice all of the _snow? _Just look at the floors! _How _did you…but the snow on the bed's still there…did you even sleep?"

"I mean, I _did, _but I just—the snow—um…" he trails off as her eyes begin to narrow. Jamie's eyes flicker to his friend, who is helplessly standing beside the window.

"Jamie Bennett,_ what did you do last night_? Oh my God. Oh my _God. _You were at that—_party _at Caleb Harnell's last night, _weren't you? _With all those fireworks?"

He winces. "How do you even _do _that?"

In the breath before his mother has gathered up all of the things she wants to shout, Jack shoots him a guilty grin and jerks his thumb toward the window. Jamie gives him the slightest of nods, and he's outside in a burst of breeze.

Jamie sighs and closes the window.

His mother proceeds to question him relentlessly and then nearly yell herself hoarse at him, more about the dangers of wandering around drunk and alone in the middle of the night than anything else. She wrings her hands frantically as she considers aloud all of the things that possibly could have happened. She also makes him shovel the snow from his floor, though she helps once she sees the sickly grimace on his face.

Then she gives him an alka-seltzer, brushes the snow off of his bed, and tucks him into it.

"You know, Jamie," she says hesitantly, "if this was about something that's going on…you can always talk to me. You can tell me anything."

Guilt worms through his stomach. "I know, Mom. But it wasn't that kind of...you know. I didn't really think it through."

She rolls her eyes in a _you-can-say-that-again _way, but the concern hasn't left her face.

"I was just…spending time with a friend. The drinking part was really stupid. Wasn't worth it. And don't worry—I'd probably cut my own leg off before I do it again."

At this, she looks mollified. "Alright, then. As long as you don't make a habit of it."

"I'll try not to," he says dryly.

She leaves him alone after a quick kiss on the forehead, muttering darkly to herself on the way out, and Jamie has the feeling that this will eventually turn into the kind of story she'll embarrass him with for the rest of his life whenever he brings visitors over.

His eyes trail over to the window. Jack has a thing about not being around for "personal stuff," and he tends to give Jamie a wide berth whenever things start to look serious between him and his mother. After a moment, there is the expected creak of the window as the winter spirit slips back inside.

"How bad?" he asks.

"Pretty bad," Jamie admits, propping his head up on his hand. "I'm completely grounded."

Jack winces. "Ouch. For how long?"

"She didn't really specify an end point," Jamie says dryly.

The guardian nods soberly, rubbing his forehead again. "Sorry 'bout the snow," he says finally. "Obviously, I wouldn't have done it if I was thinking."

"Was there supposed to be a blizzard?"

"For sometime this week, yeah. Dunno why I thought last night would be a good time…"

"Don't worry about it," Jamie says dismissively.

"No offense," Jack adds, settling back down on the window seat, "'cause I think I had a lot of fun last night and everything, but I don't really want to do that again anytime soon."

Jamie laughs, though he's careful to keep it down. "Yeah, the headache isn't worth it."

The frost spirit looks concerned. "You feeling better?"

"Not really. Did we sleep for more than, like…three hours?"

"Doubt it."

"Are _you_ okay?"

The frost spirit looks as tired as Jamie feels. "Yeah. Just a killer headache. It's gonna be great flying into the sun after this. Especially since I'm kinda behind on spreading Northern Winter now."

Jamie shudders in sympathy. "Have fun with that."

"Nice thing is, though," Jack says with an easy grin, "no one's gonna ground _me_ for having snow all over the place."

"Lucky you," Jamie says sarcastically.

"Don't worry," Jack laughs, "I'll still come and check in on you. You're my favorite inmate, you know."

"Yeah, yeah. Want an aspirin for the headache? Mom left some on the nightstand."

Jack hums in agreement, takes two aspirins, and dry-swallows them. He pauses by the bed, ruffling Jamie's hair like he's still eight years old. Jamie gives a weak protest, but Jack just grins. "Feel better, okay?"

"You too," Jamie says as Jack hops out of the window, closing it behind him. Jamie gets up to pull the blinds and slowly crawls back into bed, hoping that if he just sleeps for a while, the headache might be gone when he wakes.

.

Normally, that might have been the last Jamie hears about the whole affair, except that Jack shows up again the next day, and he's not alone.

Jamie's mother is out at the store, and Sophie is in her room drawing and listening to some really awful boy band. Jamie is tired of pretending to ignore the cheesy lyrics and even more tired of staring at the pictures in his textbook, so he heads downstairs to play some video games.

He runs into a wall of fur on his way there.

"Hey, mate," the wall says.

Jamie looks up in surprise. "Wha…?"

"Nice to see you again, too," the Easter Bunny says easily. "You're a mite taller than I remember."

"_Too _tall," Jack grumbles, grinning from behind the giant rabbit.

"Well, he _is _human."

"Yeah, but he's turning into a _giant _human."

"Is that 'cause he's taller than you now?"

"Maybe."

"_Everyone's_ taller than you, Jack," the bunny retorts, rolling his eyes.

"This coming from the giant mutant rabbit from outer space," Jack counters.

"Thought I told you to stop making me sound like an alien," the Easter Bunny says.

"You _are _an alien."

"You know what I mean—"

"Not that I'm not _completely_ thrilled to see you," Jamie interrupts, having been pulled from his state of shock by the grating conversation, "but what are you guys doing here?"

The rabbit shoots Jack a sly look. "Matter of fact, we're here to visit. Jack here gets one more outing before he's grounded for a while. I drew the lucky straw for supervisor, since Easter's still far off."

"Wait, wait—_grounded_?" Jamie asks, confused.

Jack is grimacing, his arms folded across his chest. "Yeah. Turns out, maybe I can't get grounded for the snow, but North _will _ground me for getting people onto the naughty list."

"Who did you get on the naughty list?" Jamie wonders.

Both guardians look at him pointedly, and Jack's eyebrows rise.

"What, _me?_"

"Yeah, you," Jack says sheepishly. "I mean, you've got plenty of time before Christmas, so you can definitely turn it around, but uh…yeah. North saw the entry for _you _and since my name was right there in the explanation, he knew everything."

"Wow," Jamie says, surprised. "I know he's Santa Claus and all, but I didn't know he _really _keeps track like that all year."

"He doesn't," the rabbit interrupts dismissively. "You're still kind of a special case. 'Sides, you're almost never on the naughty list. That screams foul play."

"Geez, Bunny, when you put it like _that, _it makes it sound like I put a gun to his head or something."

The Easter Bunny shakes his head in amusement. "Either way, mate, it means that Jack here is restricted to duties only. No visits for a month, 'till around Christmastime."

Jamie groans. "Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"But…we can hang out for today?"

"Just for a while," Bunny warns. "And I promised North I'd stick around."

Jack rolls his eyes. "Well, I'm not gonna sneak out," he says, ignoring the rabbit's skeptical look, "so you don't have to watch our every move or anything. Go see Sophie," he adds firmly.

"Right," Bunny says, looking apprehensively up the stairwell. "I guess…"

The frost spirit shoves him upstairs. "Go on," he encourages. The Easter Bunny turns to look back at Jack, an unreadable look on his face. Something in Jack's expression softens. "Go on," he says again. "She really misses you, Aster."

The rabbit studies Jack for a long moment, but the frost spirit does not waver. Jamie observes in quiet fascination. Finally, Bunny nods and wordlessly climbs the remaining stairs to the landing and heads to Sophie's room. It has been a long time since he's been here in the house, but Jamie knows better than to ask why all of the Guardians seem to be familiar with every home they enter.

He turns to Jack, but the frost spirit holds up one finger, a smirk on his face as he leans forward, looking intently in the direction of Sophie's room. A few seconds later, there is a loud shriek and a thud. Sophie's voice comes, muffled by the walls, but she's nearly shouting in excitement.

"It's about time," Jack says finally, turning back to his friend. Jamie wordlessly leads them both downstairs, and they collapse onto the sofa.

"I can't believe you have a _chaperone,_" Jamie laughs.

"Ugh, don't re_mind _me," he groans. "I swear, North just did that for fun. I mean, don't get me wrong, he was really mad that _you_ made the naughty list—first time in almost a decade, by the way, Mr. Goody-Two-Shoes—but after that, I think he just wanted to watch me suffer."

Jamie shakes his head. "I guess you really _are _a bad influence," he admits.

"No, not as long as you repent and learn to turn away from temptation," Jack says, straight-faced.

"But then we'd never do anything fun," Jamie retorts.

"Exactly. Sometimes you have to risk the naughty list to have fun," Jack agrees.

"Oh, is _that _your philosophy? I didn't realize."

"Don't get smart," Jack laughs. "Guess this time it didn't turn out so great, though."

"But it was. It was really great—the part where we had a snowball fight, and—"

"Oh yeah, and the snow angels," Jack agrees. "Yours looked so stupid."

Jamie smiles wryly. "Whatever. But _that _part was great. Only…next time? Let's _not _get drunk to have fun, okay?"

"Agreed," Jack says.

"And let's try to stay out of trouble for a while, okay?"

"No promises." Jack counters instantly.

Jamie rolls his eyes, but when your best friend is the Guardian of Fun, sacrifices sometimes have to be made. And honestly, Jamie thinks he wouldn't mind making the naughty list a thousand times over if he does it by Jack's side.

For now, Jamie shows his friend a tamer version of fun: video games. They play for about an hour—and Jack, being who he is, catches on quickly enough that Jamie begins to find it a challenge to hold his own—until Bunny finally wanders back downstairs, a grinning Sophie on his back with her skinny arms wound around his neck.

After a tearful goodbye on Sophie's part (although Jamie thinks the rabbit's eyes look suspiciously shiny before he turns away), Bunny slings a furry arm over the frost spirit's shoulder. Jack shoots Jamie one last grin and promises "to leave all the really fun stuff for the next time I see you." The two Guardians step outside, wave goodbye, and disappear suddenly into a hole in the ground.

Sophie picks the little pink flower that sprouts where the earth has swallowed them and wordlessly sulks upstairs to her room.

Jamie lingers for a moment more, wondering how long it'll take before Jack decides to violate North's punishment and visit anyway, and then he smiles and closes the door.

.

.

.

**A/N:** Yay! So, totally lied about updating in a couple of days...try the next day, lol. This is hands down my favorite chapter - been waiting forever to write this one! Also, we get the brief appearance of our favorite rogue bunny, Aster. This story is mostly about Jamie and Jack, so I don't make it a point to insert the other Guardians, but sometimes they just want a bit of the limelight, too. And Sophie has been waiting.

Also. Um. Sooo….I do not condone underage drinking. But it happens. This is somewhat based off of my one and only experience of being really drunk. Basically, my good friend and I agreed alcohol was completely disgusting, kept drinking whiskey, got really sick, slept for like three days, and never did it again. Also, the hangover is totally not worth it.

Thanks again for the reviews! I love hearing how you guys react to the story. French!Jack seemed to be a hit, lol.

Till next time,

ket


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